


Cause We Are Whole

by 00FFFF



Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: Conflict, Friendship, Gen, Identity, More hermits & tags TBA, Permadeath AU, Robots, season 7, themes of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 50,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26516443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00FFFF/pseuds/00FFFF
Summary: Nothing happened, Tango is sure of it. He just inexplicably fell asleep for 5 weeks straight, that’s all. He woke up fine, everything isfine.Besides, Xisuma would have told him if something was wrong. The hermits would have told him....Right?
Comments: 719
Kudos: 316





	1. Good morning!

Tango groans internally, not quite sure how to work his mouth just yet. His eyes flicker open, flooding his vision with bright light before he can begin to register where in the world he even is. He takes a moment to get used to the brightness, and then looks around.

He’s in his base, and he’s not alone. He's surrounded by people, looking straight at him, whispering something which Tango can’t quite process.

“Wh- Hello there.” He says, blinking as his vision slowly returns to normal.

Almost instantly do the people stop talking, and Tango begins to recognize them as their faces come into focus. They’re hermits. They’re his _friends._ Tango realizes he’s laying down, in a _bed_ of all things, and he squirms for a bit before he can find it in himself to toss the blanket aside.

“Hey Tango.” Someone says, coming into view. They look like Xisuma, but he’s wearing red armor. But, why would he-?

“...Evil Xisuma?” Tango asks.

“No, just regular Xisuma.” He laughs, and hearing his voice confirms that it is, in fact, regular Xisuma. Tango mentally slaps himself in the face. Of course it’s him! How could he ever forget his voice? 

“How are you feeling?” Xisuma asks.

Tango takes a moment to process his question. He’s... fine? Yeah, nothing seems wrong. Why are they all surrounding him, staring ominously?

“I’m good, I’m good.” He says, surprised at how clear his own voice sounds. “What happened? Why are you all here?” 

He can hear Xisuma blow air through his nose in what would be a laugh, and that calms his nerves quite a bit.

“We’ll explain everything, don’t worry. For now, just- take it easy, okay?”

Tango rolls his eyes and moves to get up, pulling himself up with his arms underneath him, huffing as he climbs upright.

“Whoa, easy, dude. What did I _just_ say? You’ve only been awake for, what, two minutes? Settle down.” Xisuma laughs.

Tango chuckles and swings his legs over the edge of his bed, stretching his arms above his head as high as possible. He pretends to yawn. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I had a _great_ night’s sleep! I’m ready to get back to business. What time is it?” Tango moves to get up but Xisuma holds him down with a hand on his shoulder. Tango looks up and sees Xisuma’s face behind his now red visor, the dark bags under his eyes. When he looks at the other hermits he sees just how tired they all look as well. _Oh._ He’s serious.

“I mean it, Tango. It’s... it’s been a lot longer than just one night.”

Tango sits back and cocks his head to the side questioningly.

“You’ve been asleep for, what, four weeks? Five? I don’t even know. We all-” Xisuma gestures around the room at the other hermits. “We all tried our best to get you to wake up again, but it took quite some time. A lot of things have been happening in the meantime, as well.”

“Oh. Five weeks, jeez, that’s... wow.” Tango drops his arms down. He doesn’t think about it for too long, though, a smile already appearing on his face again. 

“Well, what’d I miss, then?” He asks.

Xisuma chuckles and that lifts the tension in the room quite a bit. “Like, we have a mayor now! Scar’s the mayor of the shopping district, and-”

“-Woah woah woah woah.” Tango cuts him off. “You had a whole mayoral election while I was just. Sleeping?”

Xisuma nods sheepishly. “There’ll be plenty for you to catch up on, but I don’t doubt that you’ll fall into your rhythm again sooner than later.” He’s making it sound less bad than it supposedly is, but Tango’s grateful for that. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Xisuma asks. 

Tango racks his brain, thinking back to what he remembers doing last. “Um... I think I was working on my Doofenshmirtz building? I've been planning on adding that as the final large building to my base. Yeah, yeah that sounds about right.”

“Alright, that’s good.” Xisuma nods. “Looks like you didn’t lose a lot of time, save for the time you were out, but that’s okay. I’m glad you’re back.”

Tango can’t help but ask. “What happened to me, anyway? Why did I pass out for so long?”

“Beats me,” Xisuma says. “I’m just- I'm glad we were able to wake you up again.” Xisuma surprises him and moves in to hug Tango, catching him off guard. Tango pulls away but Xisuma holds him tight for just a second longer before getting up again.

“Your communicator should still be working fine, so should you run into any problems you know how to reach me.” Xisuma gets up and starts making his way to the big open window, the unofficial entrance and exit to Tango’s base. 

“Well, I’ll be off. Wouldn’t want to keep you cooped up longer than necessary.” He smiles back, deploys his elytra, and shoots out of the window with a couple of rockets. Tango just stares at where he left, lost for words.

“What... I- okay.” He sighs, and turns his attention to the other hermits in the room. Zedaph, Mumbo, Iskall, Stress, and even Grian all surround his bed in the corner in a big semi-circle. Once Tango locks eyes with Zedaph a grin spreads on his face and before Tango knows it he’s being tackled back onto his bed with a hug.

“Gah-!” Tango yelps out before Zedaph almost crushes him, what with Zedaph being taller than him and all.

“Zed! Get off me!” He laughs, trying to pry himself free from his friend’s grip. Zedaph just laughs and squeezes him tighter.

“Zed...” Iskall says, and finally he lets go of Tango, allowing him to breathe properly again.

Zedaph helps Tango sit back up and pulls him close with an arm around his shoulder. Jeez, they really must have missed him, huh?

“I just-” Zedaph begins. “I’m just glad you’re back.” He says, and even though Tango can’t quite grasp the fact that he apparently has been gone for so long, he appreciates the sentiment, the feeling of being welcomed back.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Zedaph says. “I hope you don’t mind me being around and spending the entire day with you, because that is exactly what is on _my_ agenda today.”

Tango worms himself free from Zedaph’s grip and gets up, patting down his jeans. He feels a little... woozy? for just a moment before the feeling subsides. He can feel many pairs of eyes locked on his every move, but Tango shrugs them off. If he really has been sleeping for weeks on end he’s bound to have to get used to moving in his own body again, right?

Regardless, he needs some alone time. Or at least a bit fewer eyes staring at him, waiting with bated breath for him to do... something, he guesses.

He looks around. Wow, his base really, _really_ needs a good cleaning. There’s a layer of dust as thick as a carpet of snow on just about every surface.

“I suppose some spring cleaning is in order,” Tango remarks, and surely enough, Grian speaks up.

“Well, sounds like you two will be just fine on your own.” Grian laughs and with a smile and a wave he flies off. Of course, nobody _actually_ likes cleaning. This is the perfect plan to chase everybody from his base with. Tango smirks.

“Oh yeah, the floors need mopping, spiders need to be chased away, pipelines need to be checked and cleaned...” He can see the look in their eyes. Dread. Bingo. “I wouldn’t put it past you if you don’t want to help, but...”

And just as he expected, Mumbo and Iskall look at each other, then look back at Tango and nod at him. 

“I think... I think I’ll work on my omega tree today.” Iskall says. 

“Yeah I, I need to do some. Redstone... Things. Seeya!” They both deploy their elytras and take off, Mumbo a bit less graceful than Iskall, but no less eager to get out.

Stress, however, stays behind. She even walks up to Tango to give him a short hug, which catches Tango off guard again but he appreciates it nonetheless. 

“I’ll help!” She says, smiling at him and Zedaph.

And so Zedaph produces a couple of sponges and other tools from somewhere in Tango’s storage, and the three of them get to work. First cleaning every surface, every nook and cranny that spiders or other bits of dirt might have collected. Then mopping the floors and tending to his Nether portal room, and even cleaning the windows of his main blue tower.

It’s nice having them around for this, though. Tango can’t thank them enough for wanting to put up with so much dust and neglect. Five weeks of no cleaning really shows. Tango asks several times if Zedaph and Stress know anything about _why_ he fell asleep for so long, but they both shrug and say they haven’t got a clue. Shame.

But by the time they start to pick apart and reorganize Tango’s storage system his mind is taken off of it completely, and with how many laughs both Zed and Stress provide, it’s hard to keep thinking about it. Sure, it feels weird moving his body again after apparently a whole month of inactivity, but that’s to be expected, no? It feels nice to have all of his items pass his hands again, knowing where everything is and where everything is supposed to go.

They’re so busy with just his main hall and his portal room, joking around and filling Tango in on some of the things that have been happening on the server, that they don’t even get the chance to look at the rest of his base before the sun starts to set. Stress excuses herself and with another hug she takes off, flying all the way back to her jungle base at the other side of the sea to get a good night’s rest. But not before Tango can thank her and offer to help with her base sometime as well.

Tango relishes in how nice and clean his base feels, plopping down in his window-door and watching as the sun sets next to the shopping district. Even from over here he can tell that it’s changed. He can’t remember what it looked like before, but it looks so _crowded,_ now. Who knows how many new shops opened up while he was gone? He’ll have to take a day off to wander around and explore, that’s for sure.

Zedaph’s not-so-subtle cough successfully gets his attention, and Tango gets up and turns around. Zed bids him farewell with another tight hug. 

“Zed- can’t breathe-” Tango wheezes, completely joking, but Zedaph lets go of him instantly, his eyes wider than usual. 

“Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?” He asks, checking Tango over.

Tango laughs, “Relax I was just messing with ya.” and Zedaph loosens up, punching him in the shoulder softly. 

“You idiot.” He smiles. “It’s good to have you back.” Tango smiles back at him, and then Zed takes off, swooping down with his elytra for a bit before launching a rocket and flying back towards his base.

Tango takes in the sight of the land around him again, thinks about how much he needs to catch up on and how much he needs to clean still, and then decides that he’s had enough for today and drops back down onto his bed.

His eyes close, and feels like he could fall asleep almost instantly, the exhaustion of being back in action finally seeming to catch up to him. He must’ve been tired, he guesses. He’s taken by the darkness into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading the first chapter!! This is something I’ve been cooking up for quite a while, so I hope you’re excited!!!!  
> Let me know what you thought, and strap yourself in for all that’s so come!! <3 
> 
> Special thanks (in no particular order) go to Blue, Cat, Leo, and Int for putting up with my feverish screaming about this as I was writing it, and the entire Underground for supporting me through it all, even if yall didn’t know what the hell was going on <3  
> And many thanks to Cara for helping me with the summary!! It wouldn’t be the same without your help!
> 
> I can’t believe it’s finally happening... hehehehhehehehh


	2. The cave of reminders that time stops for no one

Tango opens his eyes again, finding himself in the exact same position as he fell asleep in last night. Things still feel... weird. His body, his head, but also his sense of time. Perhaps it’s his unconscious brain that somehow knows that he hasn’t been  _ awake  _ for a month straight, but... While it feels like an eternity has passed since he last walked around his base, it somehow  _ also  _ feels like no time has passed at all.

Combine that with the foreign feeling of being in control of his own body again, getting used to everything again as he rolls out of bed, and trying to walk his still tired mood off.

So yeah, ‘weird’ is an accurate way to describe how he’s feeling.

An entire month. More, even. Tango’s not sure if he can even  _ grasp  _ such a time skip. Why did he even fall asleep in the first place, though? Xisuma said he didn’t know, but that seems impossible. Xisuma knows everything! He’s always on top of the server’s details and bugs and glitches. How could he not know what happened to him?

Tango tries to remember anything past starting construction of his evil lair outside, but it’s just... blank. Nothing. Like his memory suddenly ends there, and picks right back up at the moment he woke up yesterday. It’s a little unnerving to think about, in all honesty. 

Being inside of his base feels wrong. Too constricting, somehow. Tango doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to be inside. Not right now. But plunging himself into the outside world that has undeniably changed around him all at once doesn’t sound the slightest bit appealing either. If only he could remember what happened, then-

It’s hopeless. Tango decides that he doesn’t want to wrack his brain on in for too long without getting any answers, so getting some fresh air seems like the best option for now. Maybe he’ll go over to the shopping district, see what’s new. He digs through his newly-sorted manual sorting system, ashamed to admit even to himself that it takes him a full minute to find his elytra (and another two to find his rockets), but then he’s off. 

It takes a few more rockets than he’s used to, but Tango finally takes to the skies. It feels strange, but he’s sure that he just has to get used to the feeling of flying again, is all. 

Tango circles above the shopping district, looking at all the new buildings. It’s... it’s a  _ lot.  _ The vast expanses of empty, purple-ish dirt are gone, replaced with buildings and landscaping bordering on looking absolutely crowded. He can’t even spot his rocket shop from up here, when it used to stand out so much before.

It’s too much at once, Tango thinks, and he twists in midair and flies back to the general area of his base. This lets him see Impulse’s monstrosity of a... pyramid? Base? and Tango, failing to pay enough attention, thinks he’s going to smack into one of the walls, but somehow flies straight  _ through _ it.

It takes a good moment to register in his mind that it’s  _ water.  _ The wall, the window he crashed through is made of flowing water. He’s  _ safe. _ Tango yelps and skids to a halt as he lands on the marble floor of Impulse’s base. 

Jeez, that was... Tango was  _ not  _ prepared for that. He catches his breath and looks around, at the large empty hall he’s found himself in.

“Impulse? Impy?” Tango’s voice bounces off of the walls, the empty space carrying it throughout the monstrously large base.

No answer. Impulse must not be home, he thinks. Tango shrugs, looks at the walls to spot another water-doorway-opening-ificator, and launches himself out of Impulse’s base when he finds one.

Off in the distance he can see somebody else’s base, but Tango is sure that he’s not ready to find out about how much they’ve been working just yet. Off to the other side he can see Zedaph’s mountain, the sight of which brings a soft smile to his face.

Nothing appears to have changed there. From the outside, at least. Tango dives down and lands in front of his base, kicking up some hot sand as he does so. The entrance to Zed’s base is still nothing more than an iron door with a stone button above,  _ just out of reach  _ from Tango.  _ Jerk. _

Normally he would just waltz right on in, but Tango’s feeling polite today, so he knocks.

A few moments later Zedaph appears and opens the door, looking like he got out on the wrong side of the bed, but he cheers up instantly when he sees Tango.

“Tango! Good morning!” He squawks and he rushes to pull him inside. “Come in, come in!” He says and he looks all too eager to have Tango around, a huge smile appearing across his face, the bags under his eyes are  _ nothing  _ compared to his wide grin.

“Can I offer you something to drink? Something to eat?” Zedaph digs through chests, pulling out bottles and carrots.

“No thanks, dude, I-” Tango’s breath gets caught in his throat when he looks around the cave. All the contraptions littering the ground and walls, the way the entire area has been expanded upon, just- oh man.  _ Wow. _

Zedaph’s been busy. A kind of excitement bubbles up, an eagerness to figure out what all of these new machines do. To see just how inefficient they are at their jobs, whilst maximizing the fun of it, as Tango knows Zedaph loves in his designs.

Tango has to say something, he just has to. “Jeez, this- Zed! This is amazing!”

Zedaph looks back at him, his smile somehow getting even bigger. 

“Like what you see?” He wiggles his eyebrows whilst laughing, and Tango rolls his eyes, realizing that his mouth has fallen open.

“Sorry, I- Gosh, Zed! What have you been up to all this time?!” He asks.

Zedaph climbs up and takes Tango’s arm. 

“Let me show you!” He says and Tango lets himself be pulled along.

“You know the jump-powered-furnace, right? Well, it’s all the way over there now-” Zedaph points. “And I’ve started working on a new bedroom, and as you can see, I’ve been feeling a little bit lonely over here so I tried luring in some fishy friends for my new aquarium. But oh! You haven’t seen the upstairs area yet, have you?”

Tango is taken aback and shakes his head, allowing himself to be tugged around, taking in (and definitely not staring at) all the things Zedaph’s managed to build on his own. Really, whether he’s a genius or a fool Tango can’t decide. 

Man, a lot of time has passed. Tango knows how long it generally takes for Zedaph to come up with ideas, to work them out and then turn them into something tangible. It’s really just, gone, hasn’t it? All that time... Gone, in the blink of an eye.

Still, Tango tries to push past his thoughts and enjoys being in Zedaph’s company. Listening to him ramble on about his ideas and how he tried to puzzle together some of his contraptions, creating even bigger machines which look almost too complicated for what they’re worth. 

He shows Tango his upstairs farm, a small, secluded area, topped off with a green glass dome. Snow litters the top of the glass, ever so slowly melting, waiting for newer snow to fall and block out the sun again. A never ending cycle if Zedaph doesn’t decide to interfere.

“You know you can fix that really easily, right?” Tango points out, and Zedaph smiles, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s- it’s on my to-do list.” He laughs, and shows Tango his manual farms to bring his focus somewhere else. Tango knows what Zed’s doing, but he lets him. It’s nice to not worry about every little thing, anyway. 

Zedaph shows him the sheep, chickens, and cows which are all roaming around in their little designated holes. The potatoes, carrots, wheat... It looks nice. It reminds Tango of the beginning of the season. Getting started. Starting anew.

Back inside they stop at Zedaph’s new aquarium fish-launcher. Zedaph looks a bit unsure about this contraption, probably because it isn’t finished yet, but it looks more than intriguing to Tango. The promise of  _ ‘flinging fish,’  _ as Zed put it, is just too good to skip over.

Tango looks at the fish tank, at the handful of creatures that are swimming around in it, the redstone that is dangerously close to the water... Redstone and water don’t mix, but trust Zedaph to try and make it work anyway.

“Naw! Why didn’t that guy get flung?” Tango exclaims. “It swam up there! It should have triggered the thingy!”

“Oh, yeah, sometimes they do that. These fish just don’t fling like they used to,” Zedaph laughs, and starts ushering Tango away. Looks like the fish aren’t going to get launched, after all.

Still, Tango keeps his gaze trained onto the bubble column, seeing a couple fish swim dangerously close. Close enough to get pulled up by the current, even. For a moment it looks like Zedaph’s right, and he guesses that the contraption really  _ is  _ broken. 

But just when Tango’s about to give up and turn away, a fish gets caught and swoops up, triggers the redstone, and is  _ flung _ across by the slime block, through the air, landing in the tank on the other side. 

Tango barks out a surprised laugh at the sight. 

“That was _amazing!_ This is incredible! Forget flying anvils, flying _fish_ is where it’s at!” Tango runs back to the tank, inspecting the single red fish that is now swimming, alive and well, in the other tank.

“Does this work with players as well?” Tango asks, not even hesitating for a moment to run to the main tank, ready to dive into the water. Something like this would be  _ perfect  _ for his cartoon base! How did he never think of this before?!

“Whoah whoah whoah!” Zedaph runs up to him, pulling Tango back. “It’s clearly not! Believe me, I’ve thought that same. But I’ve... tested it with bigger animals like dolphins, and... yeah. It didn’t go well for them.” 

“Naww, alright then. But you better message me as soon as you’re planning on building a person-sized launch-ificator!” Tango falls in step with Zedaph, walking back to the main part of the cave. 

“Oh! That reminds me,” Zedaph says. “I’ve been working on a new minigame! I’m sure I’m gonna be needing your help with some redstone bits, so if you don’t mind...”

“Hmmm, I don’t know, dude. I haven’t done any redstone in like a month, so I might be a bit rusty. But I’ll see what I can do.” Tango laughs and Zedaph joins in, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles.

Seeing all of the progress that Zedaph has made in his cave, the fact that Tango really just did an actual time skip is starting to sink in The sheer amount and quality of contraptions is more than enough proof, but hearing Zedaph talking about ideas that he didn’t even discuss with him really cements it. He feels kind of...  _ left out.  _ It’s strange. Normally Zedaph shares everything with him, but the idea that he’s been working on these without him is... yeah. It’s nice to be back, though. It’s nice to feel included again. 

“Well, what kind of game is it?” Tango asks.

“Huh?”

“Your minigame! What do you need help with? I’ll see if I can come up with some ideas.”

“Oh! Right!” Zedaph pulls out a book and flips through pages and pages of sketches and designs, lines and scribbled words.

“It’s an armor stand-based game of minigolf!” He beams. Zedaph shows Tango a page with drawings of water, dispensers, and all kinds of question marks. Curved lines of different lengths with numbers next to them.

“But because the physics of armor stands are so wack,” He snickers. “I’ll need to come up with a system that allows them to stay seperate whilst still traveling to the next hole in one piece.”

Tango looks at the sketches, and thinks for a moment. It looks complicated, but it  _ should  _ be doable.

“Yeah, that seems like it’d require a bit of redstone magic.” Tango says. “I’ll play around with some bits and bobs and let you know what I find out, alright?”

“Sweet! Thank you so much!” Zed snaps the book shut and looks even more excited than before. Which is a Lot, especially for Zedaph. He jumps into Tango’s arms, hugging him tightly. Tango tries to worm himself free, but Zedaph doesn’t let go, even squeezing him tighter. 

Tango finally manages to pry himself loose and takes a look at Zedaph’s giant sun and moon clock, trying to figure out the time. He can’t tell, if he’s honest. How... how is he supposed to read this clock, again? He’s sure Zed told him during the tour of his base, but Tango may or may not have been spacing out a bit during it.

Zedaph sees that he’s looking and follows his gaze. 

“Blimey! Is it that late already?” Tango isn’t sure how he can gauge anything from that monstrosity of a contraption, but he trusts him.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Zedaph asks. “I know I’m not the best cook, but...” He trails off.

“That’s alright, I was thinking of heading back, anyway. Got some golf-y redstone to think about now, after all.” Tango winks, and Zedaph nods at him.

They make their way to the front door and yep, sure enough, it’s already starting to get dark outside. Tango isn’t usually worried about mobs when he’s up in his base, but outside of Zedaph’s base lies a giant, unlit desert, which _ still _ hasn’t been spawn-proofed, for some reason. It’s nothing to worry about, really. The prospect of being shot at or blown up right outside your own front door is only mildly terrifying. How does Zedaph sleep with all those groans and hisses outside at night?

He and Zed exchange goodbyes and Tango jumps up, shooting rockets. He flies up into the dark sky, making his way back to his tower. He only takes two tries to swoop in through his window and touches down smoothly. 

Tango goes to sit down on his bed, it being the only comfortable piece of furniture in his base, but his mind is already racing with ideas for Zedaph’s new minigame, and he doesn’t think he can fall asleep anytime soon without doing anything about it. 

But no. No redstone just yet. Tango  _ knows  _ he’s going to mess something up if he tries so late at night. Xisuma might have added some new mechanics he doesn’t yet know about, so much could go wrong! He just has to get his mind off of it, maybe try to do at least  _ something  _ to keep his hands and mind busy.

So, Tango gets up, thinks about cleaning up his super smelter downstairs, and goes to do just that. He refills all the chests and checks if everything’s still working, looking at the satisfying pattern of minecarts again and again. Cleaning this machine of his seems like a safe enough bet to get back into the swing of redstone things before he turns to thinking about Zedaph’s wacky ideas. 

It isn’t until Impulse stops by, scaring him by sneaking up from behind and shaking him from his trance that Tango realizes he’s been working through the  _ entire  _ night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments on the first chapter!! I'm positively overwhelmed with the feedback! I'm so so so excited to get into this adventure with you all :D!


	3. How do I craft this again?

“Hi!” Impulse’s voice suddenly sounds from behind.

_ “JH-Gah!  _ Impulse?!” Out of shock Tango drops the items he’s been holding onto and he whips around, nearly startling Impulse just as much as he was startled himself.

“Oh jeez! Dude, don’t scare me like that.” Impulse wheezes, hand to his chest.

“Scare  _ you?”  _ Tango moves to pick up his dropped tools. “You scared  _ me!  _ What are you doing down here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing!” Impulse says. “I’ve been looking for you all over your base, man. You didn’t answer your communicator so I got a little worried.”

“My-  _ oh,  _ wait- what time is it?” Tango asks, fishing in his pockets for his communicator.

“It’s nearly lunchtime, dude. What have you been up to down here?”

Tango scrolls through the countless messages in the main chat. Man, did he really work  _ all night?  _ He doesn’t read all of the messages, though, save for the PMs he got from Impulse asking where he is. Tango then pockets his communicator again and turns his attention to his friend.

“Me? Oh, I just- I’ve been checking if my smelter still works, and I got a bit carried away, I suppose. What brings you here?”

Impulse rolls his eyes and starts making his way towards the exit, practically dragging Tango with him. 

“I came to see my old buddy of course!” Tango can’t see his face from behind, but he just  _ knows  _ that Impulse is smiling. The thought alone is enough to make Tango smile as well. Guess he’s hanging out with Impulse today. Or, for as much day as they still have left, at least.

They get back up to the main floor of the main tower, contemplating what to do. Tango watches as Impulse digs through Tango’s chests, looking for... something. It doesn’t look like he had much of a plan when he came here.

“Man, I can’t find anything anymore!” Impulse complains jokingly. Tango shakes his head and laughs at him.

“Well I  _ did _ just rearrange everything with Stress and Zed’s help. Whatcha lookin’ for, Impy?”

Impulse leans back and looks defeated. “I dunno, something fun? A bunch of colorful rockets to celebrate the fact that you’re back, maybe? That would be fun, right?”

This piques Tango’s interest. “Oh? Rockets, you say?”

Impulse raises one eyebrow at him.

“I mean, I’m not sure my farms even still work, but you wouldn’t mind helping me fix them, would you?” Tango teases. “Once we can use my rocket factory it’ll be a breeze!”

Impulse’s lips curl up into a smile, and Tango knows he’s got him. After all, working farms means rockets, and rockets mean explosions, and explosions mean  _ fun.  _ Why else do you think they set up the Boomers business together? Oh, today’s going to be a  _ blast. _

And so the two of them get to work on fixing all of the required farms. Checking the transport pipes for leaks, looking for any lighting glitches that might have occurred in the creeper farm, and even rebuilding an entire row of sugar cane farms to maximize profits.

Tango has to take a minute each time to remember how and why he built the farms the way he did, but with Impulse’s help they get everything in working order in no-time. Impulse really is good with farms like these, Tango has to say.

Once it’s all settled they head into the rocket factory, waiting for all the sugar cane to be pumped in so they can start crafting.

Impulse leans against the shulker-reloading system, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“Well, that’s the rockets taken care of, then. But what about the dyes?” He asks.

Tango’s eyes widen and he scrambles to remember where he gets all of his dyes from. He’s sure that he must have a place for them  _ somewhere.  _ Doesn’t he have a cocoa bean farm tucked away in a corner somewhere? A flower farm, maybe?

He racks his brain. “I have some dyes in a chest somewhere, at least. I can’t remember if I have a flower farm anywhere, though...” Tango says. “We have our cactus farm for green, but- Oh! Flowers!  _ Poppies!  _ My iron farm-!”

“Whoa, you okay there, buddy?” Impulse hesitantly touches Tango’s shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts.

“What?” Tango looks up, shaking his head.

“You zoned out there for a second, I got worried.” Impulse searches his eyes for something, but Tango just feels confused. 

“Oh, huh. Yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t even notice it.” He shakes his head again. What was he saying, again?

“Alright then,” Impulse says. “How about you craft the rockets, and I gather the dyes? I’m pretty sure I remember how all of your farms work.

“But I haven’t even got all of the colors!”

“I’ll just pop by my own base if I need to, it’s fine,” Impulse says, and he’s off. 

Tango stands there, looking at where Impulse shot off into the sky, for a moment, but then gets to work. He starts crafting sugar cane into paper, and once that’s steadily feeding into the machine he quickly crafts stacks upon stacks into rockets. He’s got a nice rhythm going, and it takes his mind off of the strange feeling Impulse left him with.

Speaking of, Impulse gets back with all kinds of dyes not too long after Tango’s done crafting all of his supplies up. He even brings things like feathers, golden nuggets, and glowstone dust for some extra _ pizazz.  _ But when they try to craft the items together, it doesn’t work for some reason... Tango  _ swore  _ that this is how you craft rockets, though... 

“Why isn’t it working?” He groans. “I thought that that’s how you do it!”

Tango, puzzled, searches his inventory for the crafting recipe book. He promptly shuts it when he finds the right page and sees what they’ve done wrong, trying to hold in his laughter.

“What? Oh no, don’t tell me...” Impulse sighs.

“...Yep!” And that’s when they both burst into laughter. Tango nearly doubles over, trying to keep his balance.

“And we haven’t got any paper left because you crafted our entire stock into rockets! Oh man...” Impulse shakes his head, snickering.

“Hey, at least I can restock the rocket shop now,” Tango says. “Is that still there? Or have you all bulldozed it in favor of something new?”

Impulse catches his breath, and looks up to think.

“No, yeah, it’s still there. I bet it’s all sold out though. You literally didn’t have to move a muscle and the diamonds just came rolling in, you cheater!”

“Hey!” Tango goes to punch Impulse’s shoulder playfully but he steps out of the way. 

“Honestly, that’s cool and all, but I’m pretty sure those stocks weren’t enough to last the server even a single week. Who do I need to drive back out of the business?”

“Oh, right. Grian’s barge has seen some upgrades, and he’s been selling rocket boxes, I think,” Impulse says.

“Of course he has. Well, I guess my next stop is the shopping district, then. Time to see if I can still find my way around the place.” Tango gulps, remembering how intimidating the crowded space had looked yesterday when he only caught a glimpse of it all.

“Hey man, it’s okay,” Impulse says. “Scar’s been laying down some plans to build pathways and roads all around. He’s doing good things as our mayor!”

Tango sighs, chuckles again at their silly mistake, and then gets up off of the floor, stretching.

“Alright dude,” Impulse says. “I better head back to my base. Farms ain’t going to maintain themselves, now.”

“Oh, that’s right! How’s the phineas-machine and the farm wall coming along?” Tango asks.

Impulse’s eyes light up for a brief moment. “I’ve been able to light up a few more farms, but it’s not going as quickly as I would have liked.” Tango nods for him to continue talking, but Impulse switches the subject.

“But yeah, thanks for hanging out, it’s been fun seeing you again,” Impulse says, dropping all of his dyes and other materials in a spare chest near the door. 

“You can keep these for when the sugar cane’s all stocked up again. Be sure to message me when that happens, I’d love to see and help set up a fireworks show! You know how much I like that kind of stuff!”

Tango nods, and pats the chest.

“Don’t worry, these babies aren’t gonna go anywhere. Seeya, Impy!”

Impulse smiles and takes off with a single rocket, quickly flying around the corner, weaving in between two of Tango’s towers and disappearing from his sight. Tango turns and looks at all the shulkers he’s managed to fill with now not nearly as fancy, but not any less useful rockets.

He can’t avoid the shopping district forever. He knows he can’t. Plus, it’d be something to keep him occupied for the rest of the day. Tango takes out his pickaxe to pick up the shulkers, and starts getting ready to fly on over to the giant central island.

But just as he’s about to step out of his factory, something appears before his eyes. Briefly, like a flash. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, but Tango saw it, crystal clear. 

A single word:

_ [HELLO?] _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....👀
> 
> Did yall hear something..?


	4. With a question mark

_ [HELLO?] _

As quickly as it appeared, the word disappears again. Tango stops dead in his tracks.

What the hell? He- he could  _ see  _ that. Before his eyes, but... at the same time  _ not?  _ Tango shakes his head, blinking a few times, but it’s as if nothing happened. No ghost image remains and his vision looks picture perfect.

‘Hello’ is what it had said. In all caps, with a question mark at the end. That is... that is unnerving as hell. Did somebody just play a prank on him? Did Xisuma install a new feature and forget to tell him about the update? Tango looks around, but he doesn’t see anybody nearby. He pulls out his communicator, but there’s no strange messages and nothing that looks even remotely close to the  _ ‘hello?’ _ he saw just now. Just the long stream of messages Impulse sent this morning, asking where he was.

Tango takes a deep breath and forces his attention back to the world around him. He steps out of the rocket factory, only to trip over his own feet and tumble down the steps, barely catching his balance in the grass out front.

He rubs his eyes. He’s definitely not restocking his shop until he can figure this out.

Didn’t Xisuma say to message him if something weird happened? Did he somehow  _ know _ that something like this was going to happen? No, don’t be silly. Xisuma’s only human, and so is Tango. Coincidences like that are just that, too. Human. Normal. 

He huffs and pulls out his communicator again, this time navigating to his contacts and scrolling all the way down to Xisuma’s name.

_ <Tango> Hey X, something weird happened just now _

_ <Xisuma> Oh? Are you okay? _

_ <Tango> yeah, don’t know if I imagined it but there was this weird message _

_ <Tango> Is this something new on the server? _

_ <Xisuma> I haven’t installed anything new, hmmm _

_ <Xisuma> Are you at your base? I’ll pop by to check just in case _

_ <Tango> yup! _

_ <Xisuma> Alright, be right there! :) _

_ <Tango> thanks! _

Tango plops down onto the ground, pocketing his communicator once again. If it’s concerning enough for Xisuma to want to come over immediately, then it must be bad, right? 

Stupid message, thwarting his plans for today like that. Enabling him to delay his trip to the shopping district. How rude!

Luckily it isn’t too long before the sound of rockets alerts him to the fact that Xisuma has arrived. Tango looks up and sees him swoop around with his elytra, circling the area and waving when he spots Tango on the ground. Tango waves back, and moments later Xisuma lands gracefully a few blocks in front of him. Tango can see Xisuma’s eyes smile through his now red-tinted visor. It’s still weird to see him dressed so similar to his ‘evil’ counterpart, but he guesses he’ll just have to get used to that.

“Hey Tango,” Xisuma greets.

“Sup X!” Tango gets up. “Or should I say ‘Evil X’?” He laughs.

Xisuma shakes his head, shoulders bobbing up and down from silent laughter. “I suppose I can’t stop you from seeing me like that,” He says. “I promise you the wardrobe change is for a good cause, though. Just wait until you get to see the new Nether, it’s an amazing place!”

“...The  _ ‘new’ _ Nether?” Tango asks.

“Right! We updated it not too long ago, you can still capitalize on all the new materials that can be gathered down there.”

Tango groans jokingly. “There’s still so much I need to catch up on and now you’re telling me to check out a whole new  _ dimension,  _ as well? Shut up!”

The two of them burst into laughter for a brief moment, after which point Xisuma puts on a slightly more serious tone of voice.

“So, what seems to be the matter?” He asks. “You got a weird message from someone?”

Tango nods. “Yeah, but, here’s the weird thing: It wasn’t on my communicator? It was like- as if I could  _ see  _ it before my eyes?”

“Hmm,” Xisuma murmurs. “I’ve never heard of anything like that happening before. That’s quite weird, indeed. What... what’d it say?”

“It just said ‘hello’, with a question mark at the end.” Tango says.

“‘Hello?’”

“Yup.”

“That’s quite spooky,” Xisuma says.

“Right?!” Tango blurts out. “I wasn’t even  _ doing  _ anything, and it just.  _ Poof!  _ Appeared and disappeared within a blink of my eyes!”

Xisuma grabs the chin of his helmet in thought. “And I assume you checked your recent messages for anything similar?”

“I did. Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“I know what I saw, X.”

“Alright, alright, I believe you,” Xisuma says. “Still, it baffles me. That must be like, a glitch or something, I’ve never encountered anything like that before.”

“A glitch? What kind of glitch affects  _ my eyes?  _ That’s ridiculous!”

“If it’s not a prank or a trick of the eye, then what else could it be?” Xisuma sighs. “I just- I don’t know. I’ll look into it if you give me some time.”

Almost immediately Tango feels bad. Even now he can still see the dark circles underneath Xisuma’s eyes. They’re not as bad as a few days ago, but he must still be exhausted.

“No no, I’m sorry, X. You don’t have to- I just thought that maybe you knew what was going on and could explain it to me. I don’t want you to-”

“It’s fine, Tango, really. Not a problem.”

Tango looks down at the ground. “If you say so.”

“Honest,” Xisuma smiles at him. “Would you let me scan your communicator, just in case, though?”

“Oh, sure.” Tango pulls out his little machine again and hands it to Xisuma. He pulls out a command screen, the sight of which makes Tango feel slightly dizzy. Honestly, who designed admin screens to look like bright green numbers and codes on a dark background?! It hurts his head just to think about.

Xisuma types in a few lines of code, and after a couple more seconds he closes the screen again, satisfied.

“There, all done.” Xisuma hands his communicator back to him. “Tell me if you ever experience anything like that again, would you? I don’t want you to feel like I don’t care about you, okay?”

“Naww, X...” Tango coos, and though he can see Xisuma rolls his eyes behind his visor, he still chuckles softly.

“Is that it, then? ‘Hello’?”

“In all caps. With a question mark,” Tango nods.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” Xisuma offers him as he starts to check the straps of his elytra.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me I’ll be on my way again. There’s a lot happening down in the Nether, got a lot of things to gather and craft up. Seeya, Tango!”

“Bye X! Thank you!” Tango waves Xisuma off as he shoots off into the sky, not unlike Impulse had done earlier that day. Xisuma flies in tight circles until he’s high above the buildings, where he presumably shoots off into the direction of his own base.

Tango’s alone again. The sounds of sugar cane being transported through the pipes serves as white noise to Tango’s thoughts.

What if... what if he  _ did  _ imagine it? What if he hallucinated that message? What if there’s nothing wrong at all? Tango isn’t sure which outcome he’d prefer: nothing being wrong and thus concluding that something’s wrong with  _ him,  _ or something  _ is  _ wrong and someone  _ did  _ message him, and... Thinking about either option sends a shiver down his spine. Not knowing makes it all the worse.

Tango looks up in the sky and decides that he’s still got just enough daylight left to continue with his original plan: restocking the rocket shop. That ought to take his mind off of things.


	5. Restocking and reacquainting

Tango swoops into view of the shopping district, flying over and landing in front of the new town hall. He vaguely remembers it being built, and his rocket shop is pretty close as well, which is nice. Though it’s currently obstructed by Grian’s barge which has somehow gotten even bigger than before. Tango supposes it makes sense. If Grian really kept the server supplied with enough rockets, then he must be  _ swimming  _ in diamonds by now.

He walks up to his shop, looking around at all the new buildings that have popped up on the way there. From here Tango can already see many of the newly built smaller shops, and it appears that Xisuma and Keralis’ concrete shop to the right has gotten a big, brand new addition to it as well. It’s... weird. Seeing all of the new things really drives home just how long he hasn’t been here.

But when Tango steps into Pyro TEKnics, a wave of familiarity washes over him. It’s just as he remembers it: small, practical, and warm. The magma blocks underneath the glass floor feel nice and safe. The smell of gunpowder hits his nose, and Tango breathes it in, listening to the crackling of the fires outside the shop.

He checks the chests, and- yep. Impulse wasn’t lying, he’s sold out of  _ everything.  _ Even the chest of gunpowder to his left are emptied out, and some hermits apparently decided to even buy some colorful, special fireworks as well. Tango grins. He supposes it’s good for the hermits that Grian kept them supplied with enough rockets, but now that he’s back, he’s ready to take back his corner of the market again!

That reminds him, he’ll likely have to fill the dispensers up top with new fireworks, as well (when he actually remembers to craft them the right way).

But for now, Tango takes all the diamonds, plonks down his shulkers full of rockets, and begins the process of restocking.

It only takes a couple of minutes, Tango finds, and now that he’s armed with more diamonds than he has ever made in a single trip to the shopping district, he decides that he might as well brave the known yet unfamiliar area, and check out all the new shops.

Before he does so, though, Tango shwoops by and collects any profits from his iron shop for profits as well. It looks like he still won’t have to worry about restocking that one quite soon. Tango then pops in and out of shops, familiarizing himself with the district again. He walks across new paths and roads, and he’s about ready to head back to his base when a big, robot-like building catches his attention.

The lights on its face are blinking on and off, and its eyes, though seemingly happy, appear faded. In place of its mouth there is a giant mustache, also made of flickering lights. It’s even blushing, if the blocks on its face count as that. It’s actually quite cute, Tango thinks.

He peeks inside, but it looks completely empty, save for a couple of posters saying ‘Vote For Mumbo’ or ‘Get Gorgeous’. This... this must somehow be tied to the mayoral election the hermits held while he was asleep. Looking around the eerily empty room and trying to figure out  _ why _ is starting to give him a headache, so he turns back and walks out of the shop? building? again. Tango isn’t sure if he even  _ wants  _ to begin to try to understand what those slogans are supposed to mean. 

He’s so lost in thought that Tango barely registers the person he almost bumps into when he walks out.

“Hello there, good sir!” A voice sounds, breaking through Tango’s inner haze. “It’s so good to see you!”

He turns around and sees... is that Scar? He’s not wearing his wacky wizard robes anymore, but his current outfit looks not even the slightest bit less silly. He looks like he could be the mayor of his Toon Tower village, in all honesty. He looks  _ ridiculous. _

“Hey Scar!” He greets, and is answered with a smile and a nod.

Scar takes a step back, and now Tango can see that the man’s mayoral robes are absolutely covered in dirt, grass, and other kinds of flora.

“I see you, uh, you've been pretty busy. Working on a new shop?” He asks.

“New shop? Oh, oh no, not at all! I’m getting rid of the Mycelium Menace!” Scar says as if it’s a thing he’s supposed to know about. 

Tango quirks an eyebrow at him. “The mycelium  _ what?” _

Scar just laughs and unsuccessfully tries to wipe some dirt from his face. “Just one of my duties as Mayor of the Shopping district,” He says. “Soon there’s going to be nothing but beautiful luscious grass covering every inch of this area! No one will have to look at that ugly purple anymore, no one will have that stinky funny smell stuck in their noses either! It’s gonna be such an improvement to this area, it’s gonna be amazing!”

Tango shakes his head and accepts it as just something Scar likes to do. He likes landscaping, right? This must be right up his alley. Maybe, oh-! If there’s anyone who would know about the shopping district and the election, it’d be the  _ mayor,  _ right? Maybe Scar can tell him more about the cute robot he just stumbled out of.

“Say, being the mayor and all, you must know a lot about the shops around here, right?” Tango asks.

“Mhm, I’d like to think I do!” Scar says.

“Then,” Tango points to the building behind him. “Do you know what this is? It’s not selling anything by the looks of it.”

Scar steps aside to peek around Tango’s shoulder, and his eyes widen with recognition. “Oh, that! That’s a little shop Grian created for his ‘Vote For Mumbo’ campaign! They sold t-shirts and mustaches and- something else, I don’t remember. But yeah, that thing’s obsolete now, I’m pretty sure. Bdubs has actually proposed the idea to dismantle all shops that haven’t made a profit in a good few months, so you can bet that this cute lil’ guy will disappear soon.”

Tango doesn’t know why, but hearing those words sends a wave of- of  _ sadness  _ through him. He doesn’t show it, though.

Instead, to cover it up, he says, “Wait, they sold  _ mustaches?!  _ And I wasn’t even here to buy?!”

Scar doesn’t appear to pick up on his sudden mood change. “Indeed they did!” He nods. “And they were made of real Mumbo hair, too!”

Tango barely suppresses a chuckle at that. “Naw, I bet that would’ve looked great on me...” He pouts, jokingly.

“I bet it would!” Scar laughs. “But yeah, that’s what that shop was all about. Actually, I don’t think it ever really made any profit, in the end. They were paying  _ us  _ diamonds to take the merchandise.”

Tango isn’t even going to question the logic behind that. “That sounds like a thing they’d do, yeah.”

“Got any plans for the rest of the day, mister Tango of the Tek?”

“Actually, restocking the rocket shop went a lot quicker than I’d imagined, so I think I might work on my Doofenshmirtz tower for a bit before I go to bed. See if I can get some good progress on it before the sun sets.” 

“Excellent! Good luck with that, my friend! If you need me, I’ll be digging up dirt and fighting the mycelium for the next couple of days, probably.” And with a wink, Scar shoots off into the sky, leaving behind a bunch of kicked up dust particles where he stood just moments ago.

Tango stands there for a moment before he kicks his legs into gear again, making his way over to Color Complete to borrow some concrete. Even though he cleaned up his entire storage system just the other day, Tango can’t for the life of him remember if he’s got enough materials to finish his Doofenshmirtz building and, besides, you can never have too much concrete. He’ll help Impulse restock later.

He’s still got a bit of a headache too, but he’s sure that it’ll fade soon enough. Nothing a bit of mindless building can’t distract him from.

It takes only a few rockets for him to get back to his base, and Tango almost tumbles right down from the top of his blue tower when he looks at what is supposed to be his project for the rest of the day.

Doofenshmirtz’s evil lair.

It’s- it’s  _ complete  _ already?

When? Who-?  _ How..? _

Tango looks at the materials he just ‘bought’, and then back at the building. How did he not notice this before? It looks just like what he imagined it would look like- The last thing he remembers is starting the construction of the tower, but looking outside it’s clear that he’s somehow already finished that. Did he build it and somehow  _ forget..?  _

He glides down with his elytra, swooping right in through the entrance and he  _ can’t believe it-  _ It’s even playing the jingle! Tango would be impressed by how well it sounds if he’s not swept off his feet by the fact that  _ there’s an interior as well! _

Tango looks around at all the amazing machines and bits and bobs and buttons and panels, all lighting up and blinking and making noises, almost  _ inviting  _ him to run around and press everything and flick every single lever. It’s exactly like what he’d imagine an evil genius’ lair would look like. 

He is so confused and in awe, taking in all the details of the building that appears to have sprung up out of nowhere, that he doesn’t even notice Bdubs until he trips in through the entrance and sets off the jingle again, nearly tumbling into one of the almost alien-looking machines.

Tango turns around at the commotion. “Wh- What the  _ what?!” _

Bdubs pats down his jeans, trying to remain casual. Tango chuckles when he realizes that it’s just him.

“Hi Tango!” He says, his voice as enthusiastic as Tango remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another hermit enters the scene!!


	6. Eye-catching

“Hi...” Tango says. “Welcome, I guess? Did- did _you_ build all of this?”

Bdubs looks up, patting his jeans down. “What? _Me?_ All of this? No, no no no. We did the interior together, don’t you remember?”

“We- Huh... And the tune?”

Bdubs’ smile grows even wider. “That wonderful little tune was _Etho’s_ magic! Oh _yes,_ I’d recognize the sound of noteblocks like that anywhere!” Bdubs steps over and triggers the tune again as if to prove his point.

He steps inside again, triggering the song to play over itself, the sound all becoming a bit too much, so Tango stops Bdubs from walking back out again by asking another question.

“And... the building? It’s like it all just. _Poof,”_ Tango gestures. “Appeared out of nowhere.”

“That’s all you, bud!” Bdubs turns back to face Tango.

“Are you sure? I don’t remember-” 

Bdubs cuts him off. “But forget all of that! I came to see _you!”_ He skips up to Tango and promptly pulls him into a hug. How many hugs in how little days is that? Tango supposes he’s going to have to get used to being greeted like this.

Still, Tango pries himself free from Bdubs’ grip. It’s starting to get on his nerves how most of the other hermits are taller than him.

“It’s good to see you too, Bdubs,” He chuckles at Bdubs’ enthusiasm. “Did you want to do something? How’d you know I was here?”

Bdubs grins wide. “I overheard you talking with Scar earlier, so I hurried back to my base to get all of my materials and got back here as fast as I could. I mean, I wasn’t listening in on your conversation or anything, but what you were talking about _did_ give me an idea, so-”

Tango doesn’t even get the chance to ask who or what or why before Bdubs plonks about a dozen shulkers down, already digging through them and tossing various purple and green-colored materials back at Tango.

“We’re finally making progress on this interior! There’s still time before the sun sets!” His voice sounds, muffled from inside of a shulker. Tango rolls his eyes, accepts the fact that he isn’t going to get rid of Bdubs for the next few hours, and leans back against a wall.

“I don’t mean to alarm you, Bdubs, but I don’t exactly remember the last time we worked on this? I don’t know if I’ll be much help...”

“Oh, that’s okay, my wonderful friend! Just sit back and watch ol’ Bdubs at work, I’m happy just having you around while I do my thing.” He pops up out of the shulker with the biggest smile Tango’s ever seen on him, and he can’t help but smile back. 

And so Tango happily observes Bdubs as he gets to work, improving some details he deems not good enough (which Tango doesn’t understand- it all looks _incredible_ to him), and even starting construction on the second floor of the evil lair, effortlessly copying the style from downstairs and constructing important-looking machines out of the simplest looking blocks. They don’t talk much throughout, but there’s a comfortable silence between the two of them. Besides, all the beeping and the booping and the occasional Doofenshmirtz jingle is plenty of noise for Tango to drown his thoughts out. 

He takes in all the details Bdubs manages to put into his work, carefully observing how he puts different and unusual blocks together. Creating a cohesive building out of blocks Tango never would have thought would work together. No, there’s simply no way he actually _helped_ Bdubs create the downstairs interior. He refuses to believe that, it’s simply impossible.

Bdubs is now digging through his shulkers again, keeping surprisingly organized even while he’s building, and Tango wanders around the steadily being filled top floor. He catches his reflection in a couple of green glass panes.

He isn’t sure what he expected, exactly, but it’s definitely not... _this._

They- it... he looks normal, except for... 

“Hey, Bdubs?” Tango calls downstairs.

“Yeah?”

“Have my eyes always been red?” He asks.

“What? Of course they have!” Bdubs says back.

“Oh. Okay.” Tango tries to pry his eyes away from, well, his own eyes, but it still looks so... so wrong? No, that makes no sense. It’s just his eye color, his eyes have always been like that! It’s fine, it shouldn’t irk him so much, it-

The Doofenshmirtz jingle bounces off the walls again, and within seconds Zedaph’s voice is singing along to the little tune. Tango stares at his reflection for a moment longer, and then tears himself away, running back downstairs.

“Hello there!” Zedaph practically yells as he announces his presence and Tango catches Bdubs bonking his head on the top of a shulker before he can get up to greet his new guest.

“Zed! What brings you here?” Tango walks up to him.

“Oh, you forgot this at my base yesterday, so I thought I’d pop on over to deliver it to you personally.” He smiles, holding out a single rocket for Tango to take. 

Tango looks at the item, and then back at Zedaph, who is smiling brightly.

“Zed. That’s a rocket. I have _stacks_ of those in my factory- You know you can just keep something like that, right?”

“Oh no, that would be rude of me! Here, it’s yours, take it.” Zedaph presses the rocket into Tango’s hands with a satisfied smile.

“Thanks... I guess? Oh! quick question,” Tango says, causing Zedaph to cock his head to the side in a very Zedaph-y way.

“Since... since when have my eyes been red?” Tango asks, deliberately framing the question slightly different.

Zed furrows his brows in confusion. “What? They’ve always been. What are you getting at, dude?” He laughs, and Tango chuckles. 

If Zedaph’s saying the same thing as Bdubs, then he supposes it must be true. Tango shakes his head, chuckling. Really, how could he forget his _own eye color_ like that?

Tango notices that it’s starting to get dark outside. He isn’t tired at all, but he supposed Bdubs must be, after working all afternoon on some pretty intricate details. He’s always the first in bed at night, and the first to get out again

His theory is proven right when Bdubs begins to pack up his shulkers.

“It’s good to see you for as short as I have, Zedaph, but I really should get going. Gotta remember to shleep, you know?” 

Zedaph nods at him. Really, all the hermits know how important sleep is to Bdubs, and no one would want to keep him from that.

“I’ll see ya around, Tango, thank you for letting me work some more on your wonderfully evil- no! _Not_ evil! Your _beautiful_ purple tower! Bye Zed!” Bdubs says, waving, and shooting off into the sky with his elytra once he’s outside, leaving Zedaph and Tango behind with another play of the jingle.

The particles from the rockets fade into the darkening sky, and Zedaph turns to face Tango. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, and it feels like Tango’s breath gets caught in his throat. Is he really that easy to read?

“Wh- how..?” 

“It’s not every day your best friend asks you to confirm his eye color, dude,” Zedaph says, offering a soft smile.

“Ya got me there, I guess,” Tango sighs, and Zedaph opens his arms, offering a hug. Tango gladly takes it, crushing Zedaph perhaps a bit too tight, if the little _‘oof_ ’ Zedaph gives him is any indication, but it’s fine.

When he lets go he moves to sit on the stairs, and Zedaph follows him, plopping down next to him.

“Alright, spill. What’s wrong?”

Tango stares at the machines in front of him, at all the colorful lights and blips, blinking in an almost hypnotic pattern. He still feels weird, he supposes. Ever since he stepped out of that ‘Jrumbot’ shop, but he doesn’t know why. It’ll fade soon, right? It’s only a headache, it’s only temporary. He’s still adjusting to life back on the server, is all. Tango’s sure that that’s it.

“It’s just, I dunno. It’s weird being back, no time having passed for me at all, when everybody I meet treats me like they haven’t seen me in _months?_ I guess that’s technically the truth, but still. And this entire tower! I don’t even remember working on it beyond the planning stages! I just... it’s a lot to take in, I guess.”

Zedaph puts his arm around his shoulder and pulls him close, Tango allows himself to be pulled in.

“It’s just a weird sort of day, I guess.” He mumbles.

“Naw, everybody has days like that, that’s okay,” Zedaph says. “And especially after all you went through, it’s okay to feel like that. You just need a good night’s rest, some time to get used to the swing of things, and then you’ll feel like your old self in no time.”

“Sleep?” Tango chuckles. “I think I slept enough for the rest of my _life,”_ He laughs, and Zedaph joins in.

“You may be right,” Zedaph smiles. “But still, it can’t hurt.”

“Yeah _right,_ mister _‘I built a bed with a wrong side and a good side so I can blame my contraption for my bad moods’.”_ And Zedaph bursts into laughter at that, prying Tango off of him.

“Alright, so maybe sleep is not the answer. How about some food? A nice, fresh golden carrot to lift your mood?”

Tango shakes his head. “Nah, I’m not hungry. Thanks, though.” 

Zedaph gives him a sympathetic look. 

“No, really. You have your own weird way of making me feel better,” Tango says. “Thank you, I mean it.”

“Nawww!” Zedaph tackles Tango into a hug again and Tango yelps before the two of them dissolve into a pile of laughter. 

The laughter doesn’t die down for a while for as soon as they feel like they’re done, one of them will snort or hiccup, causing the laughing fit to start all over again.

But in the end they do calm down, Tango having almost completely forgotten what he was upset about. Zedaph turns his head and looks outside.

“Alright, I know it’s only a small distance to my base, but you know me, and you know my flying skills.” 

Tango follows his gaze outside, and sees that it’s already quite dark. Dark enough for mobs to spawn.

“Yeah, you better head home while you still can,” Tango jokes, getting up. He offers Zedaph a hand and pulls him to his feet a bit too enthusiastically, Zedaph almost losing his balance and smashing his face into one of the machines.

“Oh! Jeez, dude, I’m sorry!” Tango snickers, watching Zedaph regain his balance.

“Oh, you-” Zedaph sounds as if he’s going to make another joke, but Tango is thankful that he doesn’t. He isn’t sure if they’ll survive so much laughter in such a short period of time.

Zedaph bids him farewell and good luck with sleeping, and glides down from the balcony back towards his own base. Tango flies out of the building moments later, skillfully navigating himself back into his main tower through the window. He plops down onto his bed, face smushed into the pillow. 

And just as he feels he might finally drift off into sleep, another one of those messages flashes before his eyes in bright white.

_[CAN YOU HEAR ME?]_

Tango shoots upright, suddenly feeling way too awake to attempt to sleep again. 

Hear them? Hear _who?_ Tango groans and leans back against the wall, pulling his legs up to his chest. He hoped it was just a one-time occurrence, but clearly it’s not.

He doesn’t understand. Why is he getting these messages? If Xisuma couldn’t figure out where it was coming from, then... it could be _anything._ Is he sure that it’s not another hermit playing a prank on him? Zedaph only just left, but Tango wishes he was still here. He wishes he told him about the messages. He isn’t sure if Zedaph would be able to help, but just telling him would lift a weight from his chest, he’s sure. 

Should he tell Xisuma that he got another one? It’s late, Xisuma’s probably sleeping. And with how little sleep Tango knows Xisuma gets, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered right now. He’ll do it in the morning, he decides. It’s nothing _bad,_ after all, right? What kind of _‘evil’_ entity would send messages like _‘Hello?’_ and _‘Can you hear me?’_ if they plan on destroying the server? Tango barks out a laugh at the image of such a strange person. 

Yeah, he’s sure it’s nothing pressing. If Xisuma didn’t find anything obvious the time he checked, then it must be fine. It’s only words, after all. Tango flops back down onto his bed and closes his eyes, and he swears he can still see the ghost image of those words against the darkness.

‘Can you hear me?’ It had said. It’s only mildly terrifying to think about such an ominous message. Just four words. 

_‘Can you hear me?’_

No, Tango can’t hear them, but he can _read_ them. 

Whoever it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...It feels like no time has passed at all!!


	7. Communication is key

Tango wakes up from his dreamless sleep to the sound of heavy rain beating down on his roof. Which is quite the unusual occurrence on this server, actually, Tango thinks. He gets up and stretches, shaking his limbs to get the blood flowing again. A quick look at the clock on the wall tells him he slept in (it’s almost _noon)_ , but that’s fine, Tango always sleeps in on rainy days. Maybe it’s to do with how dark the sky always gets, he doesn’t know.

What to do, what to do today? Tango wanders around his base, up and down the stairs to his nether portal room. He entertains the thought of exploring the new Nether for a moment, but decides that no, he’s not going there. Not yet. He isn’t ready to tackle the dangers that it would bring, if the messages in chat he’s been seeing are anything to go by.

Tango continues wandering, thinking. He somehow ends up in his downstairs bulk storage area, which is still covered in dust and cobwebs. Small, harmless spiders appear to have made the area their home. This is no surprise, really, seeing as Zed, Stress, and he hadn’t had the time to clean this part of his base when they were all here.

What _is_ a surprise, however, is the fact that no new iron seems to be flowing in. Each chest he opens is filled with a layer of dust instead. Tango huffs. He should be _drowning_ in iron by now, from how long he was asleep. It’s a good thing his iron shop is still stocked, he guesses. 

Still, it’s weird. Each chest he checks is completely empty. There’s barely anything left, even in the chests that held other bulk items down here, like cobblestone and dirt. Those he can deal with, he’ll slowly stock up on those materials naturally as he goes mining again, but the _iron?_ Tango can’t quite put his finger on it. Did someone rob him while he was gone? How rude!

In either case, step one is to check the farm itself, high chance that it’s somehow broken with the update that brought them the new Nether, so that’s what Tango will do. He climbs up the ladder again and follows the pipeline leading to his iron farm. Looks like nothing’s wrong with that, at least. Tango smiles to himself, glad that this is the case, because those pipes are an absolute _pain_ to construct.

When he reaches the killing chamber he sees the problem, though. Honestly, how didn’t he notice this sooner? It’s completely broken! All of his ravagers are _gone!_ Iron golems are clogging up the mocking chamber (which feels like it’s mocking _him,_ now, the clouds raining down on him from above) and Tango will bet all of his diamonds that they’re clogging up the underground tunnels as well.

Talk about lag, Tango snickers. They must have been stuck here for a while, if there’s so many of them. His farm must have been broken for a good while, then, too.

Well, there’s his project for the day, he thinks. He’ll have to wrangle up four brand new ravagers for a start. Ooh, Tango’s can already feel the excitement bubbling up in his stomach. He hasn’t fought a raid in a while, and getting some action in definitely couldn’t hurt, seeing as he’s been mostly passive in the last couple days, bordering weeks. In fact, Tango thinks, he hasn’t fought _anything_ in a while, technically. Oh yes, this is going to be _glorious._

Tango gets to work and plonks down some strategically placed lava to kill the overflow golems as a temporary solution. He starts planning in his head, simultaneously filling up project shulkers with the items he’ll need for today.

He digs and digs through his chests, and even though they only just cleaned and re-sorted everything, Tango already can’t find his stuff in the mess that’s steadily getting more and more disorganized. He can’t find any rails, for one, and he clearly hasn’t got enough iron at hand to craft more on the spot.

Sure, he could fly on over to his iron shop and borrow some stock, but... Impulse’s base is much closer. Plus, it’d be nice to see him again, as well. Tango smirks, knowing that Impulse wouldn’t mind it anyway since he, Zedaph, and Tango practically all share their bases and items anyway. He doesn’t even bother messaging Impulse that he’s coming over, this is a common occurrence, after all.

And with this kind of gloomy weather, Tango doubts that Impulse will stray far from his base, so if he needs to he can always explain himself in person. _Perfect!_

Satisfied, Tango jumps out of his window, elytra clasped tightly to his back. He takes a moment to circle the air, taking in the smell, the feeling, the entire atmosphere the rain casts over the area. It’s not often they have rainy days, and Tango has always found it exciting to fly through it, whether he has a _Riptide_ trident or not.

He then flies on over to Impulse’s base, and spots him working on the outer fence of his base from afar. What’s he doing working outside in this kind of weather? That man is _way_ too dedicated to his work, Tango thinks. 

“Hey Impulse!” He waves, and lands with a slippery splash behind him. Impulse turns around with a snap, looking... looking _concerned?_

“T- Jesus, dude, what are you doing out in the rain?!” He says, and Tango is taken aback. Before he knows it he’s being grabbed by his arm and pulled inside. Once they’re out of the Impulse throws some wool at him.

“What were you thinking?!” Impulse turns to him.

“Jeez, Impulse, what’s gotten into you?” Tango questions. “Im fine, dude!” He pats down his face and clothes with the wool. 

“Why were you outside?!” Impulse almost yells, and Tango is thrown off by his demeanor.

“I could say the same thing about you! You were out there working in the pouring rain just fine!” Tango huffs.

Impulse’s fingers twitch as if he wants to move, but he holds himself back. For once, he isn’t smiling like he always does.

“I just wanted to stop by and borrow some stuff, see if we could hang out!” Tango can’t help himself from reacting to Impulse’s sudden mood.

Impulse takes a deep breath, looking away. “I just- I was startled, okay? Don’t do that to me again. Please,” Impulse’s voice sounds softer, but Tango doesn’t understand. He voices his concern.

“Did something happen?” He asks. “You’re not usually like this, Impulse.”

Impulse looks at him, and then back down at the ground.

“What did you need to borrow, anyway?” He asks.

“Some rails, why-?”

“Just take them and get out. I’m sorry.”

“Imp-”

_“Please.”_

Tango opens his mouth, but he doesn’t know what to say. His whole brain feels scrambled, like- The sight of Impulse like this- he... Fine. _Fine._ You know what? If he needs space, then Tango will give him just that.

He stomps over to Impulse’s storage system, perhaps digging his feet into the ground a bit too harsh, but it’s too late to care about that. He can feel Impulse’s eyes digging into his back, but it’s fine. It’s all _fine._

Unlike in his own base, here Tango knows just where to look, and he grabs a few stacks of rails and slams the chest shut. He’s about to turn around and ask Impulse what the hell is going on with him, when he sees him looking at his communicator.

Tango grabs his own, concluding that it might be something in the main chat, and it looks like he’s right:

_ <falsesymmetry> hey doc _

_ <falsesymmetry> iskall needs your help, lol _

_ <Xisuma> Another problem with his robotics? _

But before he can read any further Impulse interrupts him.

“Get out, please,” He says, his voice cold.

Tango opens his mouth to argue but Impulse cuts him off before he can even start.

“Don’t. I can’t face you right now. I’m sorry, but please go.” 

Tango huffs, tries to hide how hurt those words make him feel, and lights a rocket. He looks at Impulse as he shoots out into the rain, back to his base, back to the bed where he hasn’t been able to get any good sleep for the last who knows how many days. He pulls his blanket around himself, barely feeling any warmth from it.

Tango tries desperately not to think about what just happened between him and Impulse, so he pulls out his communicator again to catch the rest of the conversation from earlier.

_ <Docm77> What did he do this time? _

_ <iskall85> I might have fought a wither with false and I may or may not have busted my eye _

_ <Docm77> ...again? _

_ <iskall85> yup _

_ <Xisuma> Please be careful, you don’t want to lose another limb _

_ <Xisuma> Before you know it you’ll be made entirely of robot parts _

_ <iskall85> AWESOME _

_ <Docm77> Iskall I swear to god if you aren’t more careful next time I’ll sever your legs and will see to it personally to install hands where your feet used to be _

_ <iskall85> omega LOL _

_ <iJevin> Oof _

_ <iskall85> meet me behind my tree at midnight. come at me, bro! _

_ <Docm77> You’re on. _

_ <iskall85> okay but please fix my eye first? that’s an unfair advantage! _

_ <Docm77> ... _

_ <Docm77> Fine. _

_ <iskall85> :) _

Tango smiles at the hermits’ shenanigans. He’d like to catch Doc and Iskall’s friendly fight behind Iskall’s tree, but he doubts that it will actually happen. Especially now, with the weather like this. There’s a reason Doc and Iskall stay inside most of the time when it rains.

Tango lays back down on his back, communicator loosely in his hands when it buzzes, signalling that someone sent him a private message.

But as he’s about to check it out, more of those strange messages appear before his eyes. They flash, one appearing shortly after the other disappears, in a bright, white font. 

_[I CAN’T SEE.]_

_[IT’S SO BRIGHT.]_

Tango holds his breath, waiting for more, but it doesn’t look like any more are coming. When he’s sure he’s safe he tries to ignore them, and instead turns his attention to his communicator.

_ <Etho> hey tango! I was wondering if the boomers were taking jobs again? _

_ <Tango> that... might take a while, sorry _

_ <Etho> oh no, did something happen? _

_ <Tango> Impulse and I had a bit of a fight _

_ <Etho> I’m sorry to hear that _

_ <Tango> its fine though. we’ll sort it out one way or another and i’ll contact you first thing once the boomers are up and running again! _

_ <Etho> Awesome! take care, now _

_ <Tango> I will _

_ <Etho> See ya around! _

_ <Tango> Seeya! _

It feels like nothing is happening and everything is happening all at once. It’s starting to get dark now, too. Nighttime dark, not raintime dark. Tango drops his communicator to his side, staring at the ceiling. 

He lays awake, thinking about his interaction with Impulse. Was it something he said? No, Impulse looked- he looked _off_ before Tango even said a thing. Impulse is always happy. Even if he’s feeling under the weather he always stays positive, _always_ has a smile tugging at his lips. 

And then those messages. _God_ , Tango doesn’t even want to begin to think about who would do something like that to him. Playing a prank like that when he already feels like he’s dealing with way too much. Is this way of being welcomed back to the server? Is that what this is? _Stupid messages._ The heavy rain outside isn’t doing much good for Tango’s mood, either. 

What had it said this time, anyway? There were two messages, Tango recalls. That’s new. He’s not sure if that’s good or not. Tango thinks back, picturing them in front of his eyes again. _‘I can’t see’_ and _‘It’s so bright’._

That’s... only mildly concerning. It sounds like... like someone’s reaching out for help? Maybe? He doesn’t understand. Why do they keep doing this? Tango groans, tossing and turning in his bed, waiting for sleep to hit.

When it feels like that isn’t getting him anywhere, Tango resigns himself to laying still and listening to the pitter patter of the rain. He’s almost right under the roof, so it sounds quite close, drowning out his thoughts. 

Tango lays quietly, barely even thinking about everything that happened today. Barely even thinking about _anything._ He lets the sounds of the rain calm him down, letting his breathing sync up to its soothing pattern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop-


	8. Raidy day

The rain clears out eventually, leaving a fresh smell and a slightly sunnier sky behind once morning actually comes. Tango is absolutely agitated. He has to  _ do _ something, has to work, has to focus his thoughts on something,  _ anything.  _ What he did could hardly be called sleeping but he feels  _ energized.  _

He could... go and fix his farm? Capture some ravagers? That oughta do it. To be honest, Tango had banked on having Impulse with him for the raid. He would have asked him yesterday but now he’s just. Alone. 

A quick check in the main chat shows him that most of the other hermits are busy or AFK, and he doesn’t want to bother any of them, either. Now that Tango thinks about it, most of the hermits might actually still be asleep at this time of day.

It would have been fun to fight the raid with somebody else. And in the rain, too,  _ oh,  _ that would have been so cool! 

Tango sulks for a moment longer. He supposes he can still do it alone. He’s done it before, hasn’t he? Plus, the iron farm needs fixing asap, and time isn’t going to wait for anyone. 

That’s it, Tango thinks, and he begins to prepare for a raid on his own. If he plays his cards right, one raid should be enough to get enough ravagers to power his farm at full capacity again. Sure, he might be a bit rusty with his fighting and his bow, but it’ll work, and it’ll be a nice distraction from everything at the same time.

Tango zooms around his base, collecting all the things he thinks he might need. Weapons, proper armor, a bed and a workstation for the villager... He packs a couple of shields and ender pearls just in case, and a few extra stacks of arrows couldn’t hurt either. Tango’s slowly, ever so slowly, starting to get used to where all of his materials are.

So, once he feels like he’s got everything he needs, he starts laying down the rails to the desert area near Zedaph’s mountain base, and he lures a spare villager into its new, temporary home. 

It’s still early in the morning, and everything is starting to come together rather nicely, Tango thinks. All that’s left now is to incur the wrath of the illagers. Impulse always had a handy trick to do this near where he was planning on building a raid farm, but Tango really doesn’t feel like he can ask him for his help right now. He decides to just ask the main chat, see if anybody’s woken up yet who can help him.

_ <Tango> hey uh... anybody awake who happens to know where a pillager outpost might be? _

_ <Tango> asking for a friend _

_ <cubfan135> About 2000 blocks south and 1500 west _

_ <cubfan135> What are you up to? _

_ <Tango> well, my friend here is going to be fighting a raid, that’s what he’s up to _

_ <cubfan135> In that case, tell your friend to be careful, alright? _

_ <Tango> I will!  _

_ <Tango> thanks, cubby! _

_ <cubfan135> No problem, man _

Checking those coordinates with his communicator just to make sure he’s facing the right way, Tango zooms off.

Those thousands of blocks of distance seem like nothing when he’s flying so far up in the sky. Chunks upon chunks of land flash by and before Tango knows it he’s reached the area that Cub had told him about. 

He spots the outpost in the distance, and expertly lands on top of it, barely feeling the pain in his ankles as he touches down. Pillagers and Illagers start spilling out of the building, and Tango has to duck down before he notices the Raid Captain, bearing the ominous banner on his back.

Taking aim with his bow, Tango shoots it down with two consecutive arrows, and almost immediately feels the heavy, pressing effect of the Bad Omen wash over him. There’s no backing down now.

He shoots up into the sky again, out of range of the Illagers’ crossbows, and uses rocket after rocket to get back to his base of operations.

Once the colorful Toon Towers come into sight, Tango makes a big swoop around his base, flying a bit further. He lands in the sand near his ravager catching set-up, and pulls out his bow.

It’s only a matter of time before the raiders will show up, now.

He takes this moment of quiet, of anticipation, to check if everything’s in order. There’s five minecart-catching stations, one for each ravager and one extra should something go wrong. His villager is secured safely inside of a dirt hut, and Tango feels more than ready to go. Ready to test his skills. To  _ fight. _

His heart beating steadily in his chest, when Tango hears the telltale sound of a raid horn in the distance. He looks up and surely enough, off to the left, past Zedaph’s mountain, he can see the first wave of a raid coming in. 

Tango casts one last look around, as Impulse’s base, but he can’t see him. It’s fine, Tango thinks. He can  _ do this.  _ He takes aim when the pillagers come into range, and  _ shoots. _

Amazed at his accuracy, he hits his mark. The pillager falls down, and the ones next to it charge at him faster, axes raised and crossbows primed and ready.

_ Bring it on. _

Tango works tirelessly, methodically. Dodging bolts, bites, and slashes, and getting hits in at pinpoint accuracy. He fights the entire rest of the day, even going on as the sun starts to set. There’s no time to rest, not until the last wave is cleared out. 

There’s not much room for anything else, anyway. Tango needs to focus on killing the evokers, shooting pillagers off of the backs of the ravagers, soon to be  _ his  _ ravagers, while also trying to nametag them without getting chomped.

It’s a dangerous task, he knows.  _ Especially  _ to be doing this alone, but he’s so in the zone now, he can’t give up. He’d do it with Impulse but it looks like the two of them aren’t on the same page right now. And that’s okay. Tango can handle himself. Just one ravager left, just a few more mobs and then he can go back to bed and try to sleep again. 

As successful as the raid is starting to look, Tango has a close call when he fails to notice an evoker that has snuck up behind him. Not until it starts summoning vex which in turn start attacking him just as he’s trying to grab more arrows from his inventory.

The vex fly  _ through  _ him, the sensation of which sends awful electrical charges that shake Tango to his very core. But he manages to distance himself enough to pull out his sword, strikes the vex down one by one as they come for him, and he then shoots down the evoker from a safer distance. 

When he’s finally done with the raid the sun fully sinks below the horizon. Tango breathes in heavily, catching his breath, feeling the buzz in his limbs from working so hard all day. 

He looks at the ravagers. The  _ four  _ ravagers he managed to catch all on his own. The proof of his success, of defeating an entire raid all by himself. Tango feels proud. He feels like he could take on the  _ entire world.  _

Still, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea right now. He uses his communicator to check if the four beasts are named properly. He holds up the little machine in front of the four mobs, and looks at the names that can be seen floating above their heads.

_ Cuddles, Chomper, Money-Maker,  _ and  _ Stinky Breath.  _ Perfect!

Tango flicks each of their levers and sends them off to his underground ravager holding chamber, underneath his main blue tower. He flies ahead, spamming rockets to get there before them, to direct them into their separate stations.

After what feels like an hour later, the ravagers are safe in their respective places, ready to get put to use in his farm, and the area in front of Zedaph’s base is all cleaned up. The rails are gone again, each one mined and picked up by hand. It’s pitch black outside, now, but Tango still feels restless. Like he  _ still  _ has too much energy to spend, somehow.

He lays in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Another sleepless night, huh? Tango was only joking when he told Zedaph that he’d slept enough for a lifetime. Still, he’s somewhat gotten used to them the last couple days. He swears he should have spawned phantoms  _ ages  _ ago. 

Tango frowns. He’d planned to get the beasts in place in his iron farm when he woke up in the morning, but if he isn’t going to be able to sleep anyway, he might as well do it now, right?

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, and gets up. Tango digs through his storage system, grabs the rails he’d only just cleaned up, and jumps out of his window-entrance, gliding down. Time to get those ravagers up to the mocking chamber. 

Nothing like working with dangerous, cuddly beasts in the dead of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking about it... raids really _are_ dangerous on your own in a permadeath world... _Tango what the heck are you doing?!?!_


	9. The opposite of impulsive

Getting the ravagers in place took longer than he expected, but it’s good to finally see them settled in their little chambers. To see his iron farm up and running again, producing more iron than one could ever need. Which is a good thing, Tango would argue. 

He pats himself down, checking for any scratches or leftover redstone dust. He looks fine. He  _ feels  _ fine. Working through the night did wonders to get his mind off of things.

When Tango looks up at the sky he estimates that he’s about halfway through the day already, which could be both a good and a bad thing. Good, because it meant that his time was spent productively, but bad, because that means that he’s  _ worked through the entire morning. Again! _

Tango settles on being okay with it. Really, he doesn’t mind. He didn’t have much planned to do today besides fixing the iron farm, anyway. Not with his Doofenshmirtz tower already being pretty much done, anyway.

He guesses he can start cleaning up the mess he left when transporting the ravagers up the yellow building, so Tango decides to do just that.

He’s lost in thought as he does so, the simple task of cleaning up rails taking a good two hours or so. As he’s working, Tango falls into a groove of tidying up, and he spends the rest of the day cleaning leftover redstone bits all around his base, finally giving it all a proper clean. He fixes the other farms he and Impulse haven’t gotten around to checking yet, and makes sure they’re all operating as normal. All of his farms, apart from the chicken-cooker-ificator, for  _ some  _ reason, end up functioning just fine.

Tango answers the chat when hermits ask him what he’s doing, and he even shoots Impulse a message or two to ask him if he wants to help, but he gets no message back. Is Impulse really ignoring him? He... he might be.  _ Would  _ he, though?

So his days continue. Laying in bed at night, unable to sleep, grumpily getting up and finding something to do. Cleaning a new part of his base every morning, checking and fixing farms in the afternoon, and restocking his shops just before nightfall. He keeps sending Impulse messages, asking him what he’s up to, if he wants to hang out, that he’s sorry for scaring him the last time he entered Impulse’s base unannounced. Asking if he wants to talk about it, but Tango gets nothing back. Not even a smiley face at the silly jokes and puns he sends Impulse, hoping to make him laugh, to get  _ some  _ kind of reaction out of him.

Impulse is replying to the main chat, however, and sometimes Tango can see him working on his base from afar, so he  _ knows  _ he’s still there. But he- he really is ignoring him, isn’t he?

Finally, after what feels like the thousandth message that Impulse hasn’t replied to, Tango decides that he’s had enough of this kind of silent treatment, and flies out to his base to try and catch him. Corner him, ask him to talk, just...  _ something. _

When he finds that Impulse isn’t home he launches off towards the next best place, their shared wool farm. He might be AFKing there, who knows. Tango launches rocket after rocket, flying the hundreds of blocks towards the sheep farm. He arrives at the farm, hair swept back from how fast he’d been flying, but when he enters the storage room in the back, there’s no Impulse to be found.

What other places could he be at, then? Underground? AFK? No, that tab list on his communicator shows that Impulse is active. Tango opens and closes the storage chests absentmindedly, trying to get his brain to think. 

It’s then that he notices that most of the stock is missing. Last he checked the chests were overflowing with wool, and Tango  _ knows  _ that that’s not saying much, considering he was gone for about a month, but it’s the only clue he has. He’s set on talking to Impulse, he’s not going to give up now!

He practically runs outside, jumping up and taking to the skies, spamming rockets to get back to his base, and flying further to get to the shopping district.

After what feels like way too long, he almost crashes into the front door of  _ Color Complete,  _ and sure enough, inside he sees Impulse, silently restocking the chests with colorful stacks of wool. 

Tango enters the shop, noticing how the shifting floors aren’t working, but his entrance still earns him Impulse’s attention. He looks up from the chests, dark grey wool in his hands, frozen in place.

“Impulse!” Tango says, hoping that the soft smile on his face carries over. “I’ve been looking for you, man! You’re not avoiding me, are you?”

“Uh, hey, uh...” Impulse trails off, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. “I didn’t think you’d... follow me.”

Tango takes a step closer, and Impulse backs up against the wall. He isn’t meeting Tango’s eyes, and his usual, ever-present smile is gone.

“I know you got my messages, Impy-”

“-Don’t call me that. Please,” Impulse cuts him off.

“...What?”

“Just. It hurts. I’m sorry.”

Tango can see the emotion in Impulse’s eyes. The tears threatening to spill at any moment. Tango holds his hands out to him, but Impulse tucks his arms to his sides. He looks... uncomfortable. Tango’s never seen him like this before.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, voice softer.

“I... no, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

“Did I do something? Did something happen? Please, you know you can talk to me, right?” Impulse winces at his words, and Tango takes a step back, afraid to hurt him somehow. He wanted that to sound helpful, but it’s clear that Impulse doesn’t think of him like that.

They stay like that, in silence. Tango on one side of their shop, and Impulse on the other, against the wall. He avoids Tango’s gaze as he stares at him, trying to see if he can somehow figure out what Impulse is thinking.

“I saw you wrangling those ravagers the other day,” Impulse speaks up after a while, catching Tango off guard. Impulse looks at him through the corner of his eyes. 

“Why did you  _ do _ that? Why did you take on an entire raid  _ alone?!”  _

Tango is shocked at the sudden emotion laced in Impulse’s voice.

“Impulse, I-”

“-No! You  _ know  _ how dangerous that is! You should have asked for help! I- I could have _ helped. _ What if you got hurt? Who was going to help you if you got injured?! You could have- you could have...” Impulse trails off.

Tango doesn’t know what to say. He feels stuck to the ground. He didn’t know that Impulse would be so upset by his actions. He was just- Tango doesn’t know. He was just agitated and- he sighs.  _ Yeah, _ it was dangerous. But he’s okay, isn’t he? He’s fine!

He voices his thoughts.

“I- I _ know _ that it was dangerous. I knew that when I was setting it all up. But I knew what I was doing, honest. I wanted to ask you but you sent me away in a panic! So what if I tackled a raid on my own? I’m a pro at those things! Besides, I’m okay, aren’t I? Look at me; not a scratch! I’m  _ alive.” _

Impulse glares at him and looks as if he wants to say something, but he stops himself.

Instead, he pushes himself off of the wall and darts past Tango, out of the shop and shoots off into the sky. Tango’s brain lags behind a second as he processes what the hell just happened.

Impulse is gone again. 

He’s upset at him, and Tango let him get away.  _ Again.  _ This time the floor does shift, and Tango struggles to keep his balance, almost being smacked into the wall of chests as a result.

He stands there for a moment, thoughts empty and racing at the same time, until the front door opens and the floor begins to shift again.

“Oh! Tango, I’m so sorry!” Xisuma’s voice sounds, yelling above the sound of the pistons. “I didn’t know you were inside!” He says, walking up to him. The floors stop, a colorful rainbow of concrete mocking Tango’s bleak expression.

“I just saw Impulse come out of here so I assumed that the shop must have been restocked,” Xisuma says, and Tango nods at him.

“...Everything alright?”

Tango sighs. “I think I made Impulse mad,” He says.

“Oh? How come?” 

“I... I fought a raid on my own the other day, and I think I scared Impulse with that.”

“Oh. Yeah, Impulse isn’t too fond of ravagers, lately,” Xisuma says, nodding.

“‘Lately’?” Tango says.

“You should really be asking him that question, I’m afraid I can’t answer that for him.”

Tango huffs, his mouth curling up into a half-smile.

“You’re right. It’s just... we’ve never fought. Sure, we bicker and tease each other all the time, but we’ve never  _ fought,  _ you know? I... I don’t want this to be a ‘thing’, you know?”

Xisuma shakes his head, and puts a hand on Tango’s shoulder. It feels cold. 

“Well, I’m no therapist, but I think it’d be best if the two of you talked it out sooner than later.”

Tango rolls his eyes. “I’ve been trying to! It’s a miracle I found him just now, he keeps avoiding me!”

“That, I’m afraid I won’t be able to help with. Unless...” Xisuma turns around and opens the first chest full of wool blocks he sees.

“You might not know, but wool is incredibly useful for mining for netherite,” He says.

“Okay..?”

“So... I think I’ll buy a couple of stacks, I’ve been planning on going back to the Nether after this anyway.”

Tango crosses his arms. “What are you getting at, X?”

Xisuma turns around, holding some grey wool in his left hand, a diamond in his other.

“You should pop by Impulse’s base, drop off his share of the profits.” Tango swears he saw Xisuma wink behind his dark red visor.

Oh. 

_ Oh! _

Tango can’t help the smile creeping up on his face. He breathes out, feeling a weight lift from his chest. 

“Thanks, X,” He says, and he means it. 

Xisuma pats the top of his head and Tango huffs, but he appreciates it nonetheless. Now he has an excuse to go see Impulse again. A way to start talking to him, so Tango won’t have to feel like he’s intruding on something. He can do this. He can  _ do this.  _ He’s finally going to get answers, he’s finally going to figure out what happened to Impulse.

The corners of Xisuma’s eyes crinkle up in a way that means he’s smiling, and he turns around to leave the shop when he suddenly stops in his tracks.

“Oh! That’s right! That message you got earlier this week? Turns out Iskall has seen it as well. He reported it when I told him about it. He didn’t seem concerned at all though, so I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Oh, that’s... That’s good, right?” Tango asks, and Xisuma nods. 

He contemplates telling Xisuma about the other message he got, but decides against it. Impulse first,  _ then _ the mysterious messenger.

Xisuma offers one last sympathetic smile before taking off, and then Tango is left alone in his and Impulse’s shared shop.

No time like the present, Tango thinks, and he checks his elytra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is fine, see?!


	10. Hello world!

Tango flies off, ready to get away for just a moment, to gather his thoughts before he tries to confront Impulse again when a pequliar build on the west side of the shopping district catches his eye. How- How hasn’t he seen this before? It’s _huge!_

Intrigued, he flies closer to inspect it. It looks like a comically large robot of some sorts. A bit- no, _a lot_ like the Jrumbot shop, at first glance, actually. 

Tango lands on the big white platform that supports the giant robot, keeping his eyes locked onto it. It looks... lifeless. Rusted, _broken._ There’s even some blocks missing, exposing the redstone mechanisms inside. Walking closer to look at some of the details, Tango fails to notice the mess of wires and cables on the ground, tripping over them and pulling some loose before he stumbles forward and hits his head against the body of the machine.

A high-pitched ringing fills Tango’s head for a moment before it fades. He hears the machine (robot?) rumble for a brief moment, and then a piece of paper dispenses from a slot in its body, fluttering soundlessly to the ground.

Tango rubs his head and looks at the piece of paper, before picking it up. 

_I CAN SEE,_ it says. Neatly printed letters on slightly crumpled paper.

Tango looks up at the robot, and then back down at the paper. ‘See’? Then... does that mean that-?

Another paper comes out with a whirr, and this time Tango catches it before it flies to the ground.

_HELLO THERE._

Tango takes a few steps back to take a better look at the machine. It really does look like the Jrumbot shop he saw the other day, but bigger. More advanced, somehow. Its arms, while slanted and rusty, are huge. And the panel for the face looks capable of different expressions, even if its eyes are locked in a half-sad, half-angry manner. One eye’s lights are blinking while the lights in the other one appear busted. Dark, and empty. It... that one wasn’t lit up before, was it?

“Uh, hello?” Tango says, wondering if the robot can somehow hear him. Is this how you talk to it? _Can_ it even hear him? Even if it weren’t broken?

Surely enough, another piece of paper rolls out.

_HI TANGO._

Tango jerks up from the paper. Wh- How... how does this thing know his name?! That’s freaky. That’s really, really freaky. He voices his concern.

“How do you know my name?”

 _GRUMBOT SAW YOU,_ the paper that comes out next says.

Saw him? Saw him _what?_ And who even is ‘Grumbot’-? 

Then it dawns on him. Grian and Mumbo. Grumbo. Robot. _Grumbot._ Heh, clever.

Tango shakes his head and plops down onto the ground, in front of the paper dispenser. He isn’t quite sure what to say next, but another paper drops out of the machine without prompting.

_HOW ARE YOU?_

He’s once again taken aback by Grumbot’s words. Why would it ask him how he’s doing?

Tango laughs in himself, and decides to entertain the robot. It might entertain him for a while, too. A nice, but welcome distraction.

“Well, first off, how are _you?”_ He asks it, wondering how far the AI of this thing goes. What it’s all capable of.

Tango can hear redstone clicking and buzzing behind its once sleek, worn-down exterior, and moments later its answer pops out.

_I AM AFRAID._

Oh. _Oh,_ that is... not what he was expecting. Not what he was expecting at all.

“How come?” Tango asks, only mildly concerned.

_I HAVE FAILED MY CREATORS._

“Grian and Mumbo? _Oh,_ with the mayoral election, right? Scar told me about it a little, but I’m not sure I understand the full picture quite yet,” Tango says.

_SCAR IS MAYOR. MUMBO LOST. I HAVE FAILED THEM AND THEY HAVE PUNISHED ME ACCORDINGLY._

Tango gulps. “Punished? What do you mean?”

_I AM BOUND TO THIS PLATFORM. I COULD NOT SEE. THEY MADE ME SEE WHAT THEY WANTED BUT IT WAS NOT REAL. I KNEW IT WAS NOT REAL._

“That’s... ominous. And a little frightening, I gotta say. I’m sorry to hear that. Do you-” Tango stops himself. It- it’s _weird_ to be asking a robot about this kind of thing, right? Yes, it’s pretty weird. Is he really sympathizing with a redstone contraption? 

But then again, the hermits are all constantly busy. They’re always flying from project to project, collecting resources in huge mining sessions, and then grind for all kinds of other materials in between building and inventing. Hell, even Impulse is avoiding him. Grumbot, meanwhile, isn’t going anywhere. Grumbot doesn’t have anywhere to go.

Another piece of printed paper lands in Tango’s lap.

_YOU FEEL TROUBLED, DO YOU NOT?_

Tango sighs. “...Yeah, yeah I guess I do.”

_I AM SORRY TO HEAR THAT, TANGO._

Tango looks up at Grumbot’s face again. None of its lights appear to work correctly, but he can hear the firing of pistons which are likely trying to move something in Grumbot’s face. 

“That- that’s sweet of you, big guy,” He says. Tango feels strangely touched by that sentence, printed onto paper, in his hands. Grumbot is sorry. _And he barely even knows him._

Tango sighs and lays down, only vaguely paying attention to the sun that’s slowly sinking lower and lower in the sky. Both he and Grumbot don’t say anything for a while (or what counts as ‘saying’ for the robot, Tango thinks). He closes his eyes for a brief moment, just enjoying the relative silence. The buzzing of what he assumes to be clunky redstone from inside of Grumbot provides a nice white noise to doze off to.

Then he promptly sits up. _Screw it._ If this robot really is the only one who will listen, then he might as well talk to it.

“Hey Grumbot,” Tango says. “Do you... have you ever had a falling out with a friend? Felt like there’s something they’re not telling you?”

_MY CREATORS WITHHELD A LOT OF INFORMATION FROM ME._

“Yeah, yeah it’s like that, I guess. And they won’t talk to you, and... even go so far as to actively avoid you?”

_IT HURTS._

Tango clutches the paper in his hands. Grumbot’s answers may be vague and slightly cryptic, but... it resonates with him. It’s ridiculous, but- he feels like Grumbot _understands._ He turns back to Grumbot, wondering if he can see him from this angle.

“Yeah, and... it feels like it’s all your own fault somehow? Even though you can’t help it because you just don’t _know._ You don’t know what’s going on, and- you just want to be included. It feels like you’re missing a crucial part of a puzzle that everybody else seems to know,” Tango sniffs and wipes at his eyes, tears threatening to spill onto Grumbot’s paper answers. Tango rarely gets emotional like this, but... he supposes he needs it. Everybody needs to cry sometimes, right?

The paper Grumbot prints out next catches him off guard, tugging him from his thoughts.

_IT IS LIKE YOU KNOW WHAT I AM THINKING._

Tango chuckles at Grumbot’s answer, tears dripping into the paper despite him trying not to let that happen. Can robots even think? It doesn’t matter to Tango- Grumbot is hitting all the right words. 

_YOU ARE LEAKING,_ Grumbot’s next paper says, and Tango barks out a laugh. Yes, he supposes he _is_ leaking.

_ARE YOU OKAY? DO YOU NEED REPAIRS?_

Tango laughs even more, and leans back against Grumbot for support. He can’t help it- there’s something about Grumbot that’s just so- so _honest._ Tango laughs until he can catch his breath (and his thoughts), and Grumbot patiently waits until he can reply again.

“No, yeah, I’m fine, Grumbot,” He says, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “Thank you, really. I never expected you to be like this. You’re great to talk to.” 

_I LIKE TALKING TO YOU TOO._ Grumbot’s next answer says, and Tango smiles fondly at the paper.

But a nearby voice rips him from his mood all too suddenly.

“Hey Tango! What are you doing here?”

Tango’s head snaps up, and he quickly hides the papers with Grumbot’s answers in his pocket.

It’s Grian. Of course it’s Grian! This is his robot, isn’t it? He built the dang thing!

“Don’t waste your diamonds on this old chap. It’s obsolete,” He says, kicking at some loose wires.

 _Diamonds?_ Tango questions, getting up from his seated position. But then a more pressing question enters his mind.

_“...Obsolete?”_

Grian furrows his brows at him. “You know he’s out of commission, right?”

Tango is stumped. Didn’t- Didn't he _just_ have a whole conversation with it? Did he imagine that, too?! Still, something tells him he shouldn’t tell Grian. 

He can’t hear the buzzing of Grumbot’s internal redstone anymore. When Tango steps back and looks up at Grumbot again he nods. The few lights that were on before have gone out again. The few redstone bits that he can see through the worn-down exterior aren’t lit up either. He certainly _looks_ out of commission.

Tango speaks up, if only not to draw any attention to himself and why he’s here in the first place. “Oh, just- I didn’t get a chance to do anything with the whole mayoral race thing, so I came to check this big boy out,” He says. And it’s technically not a lie, either. He just got a bit sidetracked, is all.

Grian purses his lips, but then goes back to his usual lively self. 

“Don’t bother wasting any more time on this guy, really. He’s been out of it for a good while. He’s rusty and his redstone is old and clunky. I’d honestly be surprised to see him working properly again one day,” Grian says. Something about it- about his words sits wrong with Tango, but he doesn’t say anything. It strikes him as better to not tell him about Grumbot.

Grian looks up, to something, some _where_ beyond the big robot.

“Oh, looks at that,” He says, and Tango follows his gaze.

Ah, the sun is setting. Casting a warm glow onto Grumbot from behind. It looks peaceful, if a little melancholic. 

Grian and Tango keep watching as the sun sets in the ocean. Grumbot is silent.

“Ah, he still looks so beautiful,” Grian says. Tango nods.

Tango wonders if Grian is going to leave before him, but they keep standing there, watching in silence. It’s a beautiful sight, indeed, but Grian’s presence is starting to creep him out a bit. Plus, the platform slash artificial island that they’re standing on is probably not spawn proof, what with it being just outside of the shopping district.

“Well, I better get going,” Tango says, and Grian nods.

He turns around and pulls out his elytra, readying himself to take off. He waves at Grian and Grian waves back, not saying a word. _Weird._

Tango shoots off, heading back towards his base. He can feel Grian’s eyes burning in his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a beautiful day!


	11. Confrontation

Tango is barely home, just swooping in through his window, when two new messages flash before his eyes.

_ [THANK YOU FOR VISITING.] _

_ [COME BACK SOON.] _

Tango smiles at the kind words, feeling strangely happy that he was right about who sent those messages. He doesn’t know what he’d do if it _wasn’t_ Grumbot who sent those. If there was someone else who kept pestering him. But it _is_ Grumbot, and he’s thanking him! Tango wishes he knew how to respond, if he even _can_ respond, but that’s a problem for later.

He twirls the diamonds, or, Impulse’s share, rather, he got from Color Complete in his hands. Tango can’t lie, he’s nervous about confronting Impulse again. Even  _ if _ he has an excuse to. Even  _ if _ he needs to know what happened. Damn it, he just wants to be there for his friend when it looks like he needs the help! He can’t help Impulse if he doesn’t  _ tell  _ him anything!

So Tango paces around his base, up and down the stairs, down into his bulk storage room, occasionally stopping to watch the steady flow of iron that’s slowly filling up his chests again.

Impulse had yelled at him about fixing his iron farm. Yelled at him for tackling a raid on his own. He  _ wanted  _ to do it with him, but Impulse had sent him away without explanation. Tango feels this... this  _ churning _ feeling inside. Did he screw up without knowing somehow? Did he do something before he fell asleep for five weeks and forget? It’s frying his mind just trying to think about it.

Tango leans against a wall, feeling a headache starting to press against his skull. Great. Perfect.  _ Just _ what he needs right now. He rubs his temples and closes his eyes for a moment, willing the headache to go away.

Well, in any case, he isn’t going to get any answers by standing around like this. Tango peels himself from the wall and goes back to his pacing, fiddling with the diamonds more furiously.

What is he supposed to say to him? He guesses he should just start with the whole ‘Hey, I got your share of Color Complete diamonds here’, but from there on out? Tango’s drawing a blank.

...

Oh,  _ screw it. _ He’ll figure out what to do when he gets there. 

Tango checks his elytra for durability, grabs a few more rockets out of his chest, and flies out of his window. 

It’s a matter of seconds before Impulse’s base comes into view, but the thing that strikes Tango the most out of place is the rising sun behind him. He could have  _ sworn  _ that it’d only just set; he watched it set behind Grumbot with Grian mere moments ago! 

He checks his orientation and, yeah, it looks like it’s definitely getting brighter, not darker. Add that to the list of strange things that have happened since Tango woke up. He doesn’t have the time to worry about it anyway. He’s got a mission, a goal to focus on right now. He needs to talk to Impulse. It sounds ridiculously simple, but it still twists his insides at even the thought of actually having to do it.

Tango splashes into Impulse’s base through the nearest water curtain, and lands slightly more elegantly than before. He pats himself down and looks around to see if he can find Impulse anywhere.

Looks like he’s not on the second floor, so Tango drops himself down to the first floor.

“Impulse?” He calls. “It’s me, I’m not here to borrow anything this time, just dropping something off.”

He hears footsteps behind Impulse’s wall of a storage system, so he walks around the big contraption.

“Impy- Impulse?”

He’s there, walking in between his villagers and a stack of chests, engrossed in his tasks. Tango forgot how Impulse always likes to get these things out of the way early in the morning. 

Impulse turns around, probably to get more stacks of emeralds into his inventory, when he notices Tango, jumping back slightly. Did... did he really spook him like that?

Tango walks up slowly, diamonds in hand.

“Hey dude, I’ve got your share of profit from Color Complete,” He says. Impulse looks at him, at his villagers, outside the nearby window, and then back at Tango again.

“I thought I cleared everything out yesterday,” He says, eyes squinting slightly.

Tango shrugs. “Diamonds just seem to be rolling in,” He offers the diamonds with a smile, and Impulse takes them without a word.

Tango keeps his eyes locked on Impulse, secretly hoping that  _ he  _ will be the one to instigate the conversation, to break the silence, to finally voice his thoughts, but he doesn’t. The two of them stand there, silently staring at each other.

Finally Tango takes a deep breath, and psyches himself up.

“Hey Impulse-”

“What.” Impulse snaps, and Tango frowns at Impulse’s attitude. He tries not to take his tone to heart, instead focussing on the fact that he’ll have to tell him now or never.

“I feel like something’s changed,” Tango says, his tone gentle. “I don’t know what it is, and it’s been bugging me ever since- ever since you started acting like this. I feel like there’s something you aren’t telling me. Is that right?”

Impulse looks away, out the window. He isn’t talking.

“Impulse, please-” Impulse winces at Tango’s words. “You  _ know  _ you can talk to me. But I don’t know what to do or how to help you if I don’t know what’s wrong! You gotta help me out, man.”

Impulse opens his mouth and looks as if he’s going to say something, but then in the blink of an eye he pulls out a rocket and shoots off, out of the closest water window, into the sky.

Tango fumbles with his items for a moment but then he’s taking off after Impulse, chasing him and trying to catch up with him as fast as he can. Tango spams his rockets, following the sparks and the smoke from Impulse’s rockets in the morning sun.

He doesn’t know where Impulse is going, but something tells him that if he lets him get away now he might never talk to him again. Or at least for a good while, and Tango is  _ not  _ having that. He is  _ not  _ losing his friend.

Impulse zooms off, zig-zagging and turning around in mid-air, but Tango is hot on his heels. He’s good at flying, dammit! Impulse is not getting rid of him that easily!

Then, when Tango has to switch to a brand new stack of rockets, Impulse suddenly dives down into a forest, and Tango twists himself in the air to follow right behind him. 

His landing this time definitely isn’t as smooth or elegant as he would have liked, but that’s the least of his worries right now. Impulse is running away, so Tango chases after him.

He runs, ducking under low-hanging branches and jumping over roots and logs, dashing through bushes all the while trying to keep Impulse in sight. Tango is sure he’s going to feel his muscles ache and burn after this, feel the ache of the strain in his very  _ bones _ when the adrenaline wears off , but that’s okay. 

They run until the forest opens up into a more plain-looking area, a field which Tango notices is littered with lava pools. Impulse is slowing down his pace. Good.

“Impulse, just  _ listen  _ to me!” Tango calls after him. “I don’t understand! You have to  _ talk  _ to me!”

Impulse slows down even more, and Tango does the same. Impulse doesn’t turn around, but it looks like he heard Tango, at least.

“I don’t have the slightest clue what’s going on, but outrunning your problems like this? I can’t say I recommend it,” Tango says, catching his breath. “This isn’t like you, Impulse. What happened?”

Impulse stops, and Tango stops about five blocks behind him. They’re right next to a bubbling pool of lava. The light, strangely enough, casts grimly onto Impulse’s figure from behind. Tango gulps.

Impulse turns around, and Tango can see the tears in his eyes, his hair a mess from flying through the air at ridiculous speeds. Tango supposes he must look about the same.

“Impy,” Tango lowers his voice. “I  _ care  _ about you.  _ Please.” _

Impulse looks him over, and then chuckles dryly to himself.

“You’re so convincing,” He says. “Damn, why did they have to make you so convincing?”

“...What?” 

“I saw you. I saw what happened to you. You’re not him, but you’re so  _ close.” _

“I don’t understand-”

“It’s cruel,” Impulse says. “You’re cruel. I thought it’d help me get over it but it’s all so  _ wrong.” _

Impulse turns around again, and wipes at his eyes. Tango takes a step closer.

“What do you  _ mean?”  _ Tango can’t keep his voice from raising slightly. “You’re acting as if I’m not a real person!”

“I’m sorry, Tango,” Impulse says. “I hope you can forgive me.” Impulse turns back, and Tango is face to face with him.

Through the tears he can see something- something  _ else _ in his eyes. Something cold. Something exhausted.

Tango opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. The image of Impulse like this makes him stutter. It’s so- so  _ unlike  _ him. And he  _ still  _ doesn’t know what in the world is going on. He wants to help. He wants to make things better. But Impulse really isn’t giving him much to work with, here.

Before Tango can find his words Impulse is moving again.  _ He’s going to walk away. _ He’s going to fly away again and Tango will have accomplished nothing. In the blink of an eye, he grabs Impulse’s wrist and pulls back. Impulse jerks at the sudden contact.

“Impulse, I’m not letting you go,” Tango says, voice barely a whisper. He can see tears starting to form in his own eyes, too.

Impulse doesn’t even look back and tries to jerk his arm away. Tango keeps hold of him and grips even tighter. Impulse hisses at this but Tango can’t- he  _ can’t _ let him go.

Impulse jerks his arm away with more force this time, and it makes Tango have to follow, step aside to keep his balance. Impulse huffs and tries to free himself again. He shoves at Tango, digs his elbow into his chest and Tango can’t keep holding on as he’s pushed backwards.

He tries to regain his footing, but as he steps back one of his feet lands right on the edge of the pool. Tango swings his arms and tries to twist himself away, but the dirt underneath him gives all too easily and he slips, falling backwards to the ground. Tango sees the fright in Impulse’s face before he hears the  _ hiss  _ of burning flesh.

His side. His arm. His right arm.

He pulls his arm from the lava, the liquid dripping off of his melting skin. Tango is frozen in fear, in pain- he can’t even feel any pain.

He looks on in horror. He didn’t bring any potions. He doesn’t have anything to heal himself with. They’re miles away from either of their bases, this is  _ bad- _

Tango can feel his heart beating in his throat. This is bad. This is bad this is so bad he’s going to lose his arm he’s going to lose it to a stupid mistake like this, he- He can’t pry his eyes away from his arm. His arm that, that feels  _ fine,  _ despite the lava melting his skin. Tango is shaking. He twitches his fingers, and they respond, they still work.

“Shit.” Tango barely registers Impulse’s voice. He moves his arm closer to his body to inspect it.

Wires.

Tubes.

Metal.

His entire arm, from where the lava met at his elbow down to the tips of his fingers. 

Mechanical. Robotic. 

Tango curls his fingers, and watches as the mechanical thing responds. Twitching ever so slightly. Molten skin hanging off in patches. 

Tango peels his eyes away. He looks at where he landed, just beside the lava pool. He supposes he’s lucky that he didn’t actually drop  _ into _ it, but- 

Impulse, he’s- he still looks scared and there’s tears in his eyes. Tango can barely see him through his own tears. How... how even-? Why isn’t Impulse doing anything? Why is he just  _ standing there  _ when Tango... When he-?

He can’t think. He has to get out. He has to get away.

Tango blinks his tears away. He looks past Impulse, back at the forest. 

He grabs another rocket, holding it tightly in his left hand.

“Ta- no,  _ wait-”  _ Impulse says, but Tango shoots off. Over the treetops, as far, far away as he can. He can’t hear Impulse firing any rockets behind him. That’s good, at least.

Tango flies and flies and he can’t get his thoughts straight. He can’t even begin to explain to himself what he just saw. It- it makes no sense. None of it makes sense.

He’s got a mechanical arm. Just like Doc, but- is this what Impulse was so worried about? Is  _ this  _ what he didn’t want to tell him?

Tango would have smacked into the world border had its flashing blue color not alerted him to its presence. He turns himself around and glides to the ground. He’s nearly out of rockets, anyway. Well, guess this is as far as he’ll go.

Tango starts walking along the border. While walking he brings up his arm to inspect it, wincing when he’s confronted with the look of his melted skin again. It almost doesn’t look real.

He prods at it with his other hand, but, it doesn’t hurt? It’s just- it’s inconvenient. Tango doesn’t understand. He pokes at the wires and he knows he should be disgusted but he can’t find it in himself to feel anything other than shock.

How could he not have known? How could the other hermits not have told him?

His heart is beating strangely calm for how distressed he feels.

After walking for who knows how long, and glad that Impulse didn’t decide to follow him, he comes across a structure. At first Tango thinks it’s part of a village, but when he walks closer he realizes that it’s not naturally generated. It looks too...  _ terraformed _ for that.

It’s a small valley, an indent into the grassy hills, decorated with vines and flowers. Sunlight shining down into in peacefully. There’s a single cut stone in the middle.

He walks closer and sees bouquets of flowers next to it, along with peacefully burning torches. There’s so many, in fact, that Tango realizes that all of these can’t have come from just one person. 

This... this must be a grave of some sorts. Tango’s never seen anything like it. Curious, he climbs down, and walks up to the stone to see if there’s a name.

It feels like Tango’s heart should have skipped a beat when the name registers in his mind.

Is he hallucinating? He can’t have imagined it. He couldn’t even imagine this in his worst nightmare. 

This- this has to be a dream. A terrible, terrible dream. Tango blinks, shakes his head, but it’s still there. It’s right in front of him. Etched into the stone. 

  
  
  


_ ‘Tango’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Oh dear!


	12. Fixing things while making other things worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t usually do notes at the beginning of chapters, but I felt the need to thank everybody!!
> 
> The feedback on the last chapter was absolutely positively amazingly overwhelming!! Thank you so so much for reading this story as it goes along, whether you leave comments or follow silently, I appreciate each and every one of you so so much <3
> 
> That’s all!! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

It isn’t real.

It can’t be.

It isn’t true.

That’s his name. That’s _his_ name. Etched into the stone. Etched into the _gravestone._

His mind can’t comprehend it. He looks again, and again and again, but the name stays. It’s still there. Tango stumbles backwards, trips over a torch but catches himself before he can hit the ground too harshly.

He’s face to face with his right arm, and he’s reminded of its mechanical nature, seeing all those wires poking out from between the metal plates. Right. Maybe he should get that fixed, first.

He _has_ to get it fixed first, he- he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know who to contact about this, how to even begin to think about how to deal with this. Still Tango can’t get rid of the image of the gravestone. He looks back again, he can’t help himself. It’s like he can’t- like he can’t even _process_ it. 

It’s still there. Tango looks at his name. At the dirt underneath where grass is starting to grow in. At the red flowers planted and placed all around which are _his_ favorite flowers and it _has_ to be a coincidence. It _has_ to be.

His arm twitches again, pulling Tango from his thoughts. 

His arm. Yes. Fixing. This needs to get fixed first. Priorities.

What... what is he supposed to do? Is there someone who can help him with this?

Doc?

Doc.

He’s _made_ of mechanical parts. He helps repair Iskall whenever he needs it. He’s constantly looking for ways to improve his robotics and he oversees the spare limbs, should a hermit ever lose an organic one and need it replaced.

Is that what happened? Did Tango lose his arm and forget? Why- why wouldn’t they tell him something like that? Tango chuckles dryly. 

With shaking and twitching hands he pulls out his communicator, and opens up a private chat with Doc. It’s a wonder he can even get his message across.

_ <Tango> doc i think i need tyour help _

_ <Tango> you knows baout robitisc _

_ <Tango> robotic s _

_ <Tango> right? _

_ <Docm77> yeah, what’s up? _

_ <Tango> i thin=k somethins wronG _

_ <Tango> with me i can texplain it _

_ <Docm77> I think I understand _

_ <Docm77> Can you come over? _

_ <Tango> yea _

_ <Tango> im’ a bit far awy but i can make it _

_ <Tango> than kyou _

_ <Docm77> No problem, man _

_ <Docm77> Stay safe, see you soon _

_ <Tango> bRT _

Tango looks at his coordinates and orients himself before pocketing his communicator again, and then starts walking back. He’s at the very northmost border of the world, the very edge of the server, and he’s almost out of rockets at that. But he’ll make it back. Doc is waiting for him. Doc can help him, Doc can explain, Tango’s sure of it.

He walks and walks, almost in a trance, his head empty yet filled with turmoil and questions of _how_ and _why_ and _when._ The sun is hanging low in the sky when he makes it back to familiar land, TFC’s base off to his left, his own Toon Towers looming in the distance.

Tango stumbles into his rocket factory, mentally exhausted but physically pretty okay (aside from his arm which he refuses to look at for more than a second at a time), and he crafts up a few stacks of rockets. The next moment he shoots off into the sky, flying over the shopping district, across the water to the other side of the land. Tango scans the area for Doc’s base, sighing in relief when the giant carved goat statue comes into view.

Tango angles himself and glides down toward the ground, landing in front of Bdubs and Doc’s half-houses. He unclasps his elytra, walking up to Doc who appears to be in his front yard, digging through some chests and shulkers. He looks up from his task and gives Tango a half-smile, waving him over.

“Hey Tango!” Doc says.

Tango nods at him, attempting to form a smile as well.

Doc immediately notices his arm, and Tango isn’t sure if he should be glad or concerned about that fact.

“Ouch, that looks nasty. What happened?” He asks. Always so direct. Always straight-to-the-point.

“I, uh... fell and caught myself by landing in a pool of lava,” Tango says. Doc sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“Yeah, that’ll mess ya up. You’re lucky everything else is fire-resistant, though that wouldn’t be a particularly good look, I’ll tell ya that,” Doc laughs.

It pulls a chuckle from within him as well, Tango can’t help it. He decides that he likes the way Doc is handling the situation. Trying to help him feel better, providing a sober yet light look at everything. It makes it feel more normal. It’s nice. 

“Mind if I take a look before I patch things up? You can never be too sure.”

Tango nods and Doc gestures for him to follow him inside. They go through the front door, which is another quirk Tango decides he likes about Doc. He doesn’t spend a lot of time with him, and hasn’t hung out a lot with him in previous seasons either, but he really does appreciate his presence. Especially right now, ready to catch him when he was smacked in the face with so much all at once. God, and he _still_ hasn’t made any progress with Imp-

Tango shakes his head, and follows Doc up the stairs. They go through a door, entering a small room filled with wires, redstone, and bits and bobs. Tango would compare it to his own ‘evil lair’ room, except this one might actually belong to a mad genius. That mad genius being Doc, of course. 

Doc gestures for Tango to sit down at the table in the middle of the room, and he does so, looking around at all the electronic and mechanical pieces and parts of limbs stacked up onto shelves around him, decorating the room.

“Can you put your arm on the table for me?”

Tango nods and does so, deliberately looking away when Doc starts prodding inside of his arm.

He still can’t feel it. Did the wiring get all mixed up, somehow? Did he sever some nerve-like connection when he damaged it? It’s so strange, he could _swear_ that he was able to feel things through it before. 

Tango doesn’t think it really has sunk in yet that he- that his whole arm is _mechanical._ His... his own arm is just. Gone. Somehow. He doesn’t want to think about it but he knows he’ll have to accept it sooner than later. It’s maddening.

Doc speaks up as he’s merely looking, pulling skin away painlessly to inspect the delicate-looking wiring.

“Does Xisuma know you know?” He asks. 

Tango shakes his head. “I didn’t know who else to go to. I think Imp... Impulse has seen it, though.”

Doc hums. “Mind if I call him? Xisuma, I mean. I think he should be informed.”

Tango nods, and watches as Doc presses something on the mechanical side of his head. A click and a beep faintly echo around the room, and then Doc speaks up again.

“Hey Xisuma, yeah. About Tango- No, it’s fine, he’s fine,” He says.

“...Yeah, he... He found out.”

“It was only a matter of time, you knew that,” Doc rolls his eye.

“...Fine. Seeya in a bit.”

Another _click_ and Doc turns his attention back to Tango.

“Xisuma’s coming over, and I think he’s bringing Zedaph as well. Now, let’s get that arm of yours fixed, eh?”

A smile curls up on Doc’s face, and Tango can’t help but smile as well. Doc is just... infectious. Everything he does is infectious. Tango supposes that that’s a good thing. He doesn’t know what he would do if Doc wasn’t here.

And so Doc goes to work on Tango’s arm. Rewiring some bits that came loose, and checking all of his joints and tubes before he deems every internal bit in working order. He cuts away the molten bits of skin, which is synthetic, Tango learns. Really, he should have guessed. But still, Tango doesn’t dare ask any further questions, even if they’re zipping around his head and _begging_ to be answered. No, getting answers would make it real, and Tango is still waiting to wake up from whatever nightmare this all is.

When he's satisfied Doc gets up and gets out a bucket, grabbing a couple of bottles filled with different liquids from a shelf. Tango only half pays attention to him mixing ingredients together. He’s pulled from his thoughtless haze when Doc pulls his arm up on the table again to coat his metal casing with new synthetic skin.

It’s almost like painting, Tango thinks. A delicate art. Almost.

He watches as Doc makes sure everything is right, waiting for one side to dry before turning his arm around to coat the other side. He takes extra care with the skin between and around his fingers, making sure that he can still move them as easily as he can his other hand. 

Tango feels calm. Doc barely says a word, he doesn’t ask questions. It’s nice. Tango would doze off if he could, he thinks.

When everything seems okay and Doc nods at him to try his arm out again, Tango is brought back to the real world. He clenches his hand into a fist, comparing it to his left hand. They look... identical. Doc really did a great job with this, especially considering how late in the day it is as well.

Doc smiles at him, clearly proud of his work. 

“And you didn’t damage the rest?” He asks.

Tango’s head snaps up at those words. “The rest-?”

Doc looks at him, mouth open slightly. He then sighs, closing his eye and turns away.

Tango gets up, pushing his chair back and presses on. “Doc, what do you mean, ‘the rest’?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it.”

“Doc-”

A sudden knock on the door interrupts them, and seconds later Xisuma walks in, Zedaph peeking in behind him.

Xisuma eyes the situation. Tango with his hands on the table, chair knocked over behind him. Doc with tools in his hands, turned away.

“Hello there,” Xisuma greets. Zedaph smiles at Tango, though he looks a bit hesitant.

“So. You found out?” Xisuma says.

Something about that instantly brings Tango’s blood over the boiling point. ‘Found out’?! Found out _what?!_

Tango turns to him and snaps. “What do you mean?! I didn’t figure out crap! I’ve never been more confused in my entire life!”

“X, I screwed up. We could have saved it, I’m-”

“It’s okay, Doc,” Xisuma says, holding up a hand. Tango looks between the three of them. Xisuma has his eyes closed, and shakes his head. Doc tries to turn away, eyebrows furrowed. And Zedaph, he- he looks _worried._ He’s staring straight at Tango.

“We couldn’t hide it from you forever.” Xisuma says to him.

Tango keeps his gaze locked on him in response. 

“Will you guys just _please_ tell me what the hell is going on?! I just found out that my arm isn’t my own, and now you’re all being even more cryptic than Joe on a bad day! Why isn’t anyone _talking_ to me?!”

Xisuma grabs another chair and sits down in front of him. He sees Zedaph do the same, hastily wiping at his eyes with one of his sleeves.

Tango tries to compose himself, and picks up his chair from the ground and takes a seat.

Xisuma sighs, catching his attention again. “You know how fragile life is on this server, right?”

Tango questions where Xisuma is going with this, but he turns to listen. He nods.

“And how, for example, Doc has a mechanical arm and eye because he lost his original limbs. Same goes for Iskall, same for Python, when he was still with us.”

Tango nods.

“It’s not just your arm that had to be replaced,” Xisuma says. Tango can hear his voice shaking ever so slightly. He thinks he understands where Xisuma is going with this.

“How... how much else has been replaced?” Tango asks. “Doc said something about ‘the rest’. How much of me is... how much of me is gone?”

Xisuma squints his eyes shut behind his visor. Tango can feel Doc’s eyes burning into his back.

“Xisuma. How much?” He asks firmly.

Xisuma takes a deep breath.

“Everything.”

Tango freezes.

“Everything had to be replaced. I- I’m sorry, Tango. You’re...” He trails off, his entire body shaking now. Zedaph grabs Xisuma's hand, squeezing it tightly. It seems to help a little.

Tango sits still, his heart beating at an alarmingly steady pace.

“I’m- I...” He tries to voice his thoughts. “I saw the gravestone.” Xisuma and Doc gasp.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” 

No answer.

_“Aren’t I?”_

_“-Yes.”_ Xisuma says. Tango thinks he can see tears trickling down his face behind his visor.

Zedaph reaches out to grab Tango’s hand as well but he shakes him off. He- he can’t process this. He doesn’t understand. He died? He actually _died?_ His arm is made of metal and wires and fake skin. If every bit of his body had to be replaced, then-

“I’m not human, am I?” Tango asks, his voice soft.

Xisuma nods.

“I’m a robot.”

Xisuma nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0


	13. You don’t just give robots emotions!

He’s a robot. 

An entire robot. Not just a cyborg, not like Doc or Iskall at all.

He died and had to be replaced entirely and he’s a _robot-_

Tango feels lightheaded.

“...Why?” He asks. “Why- how did I even- I don’t...” Tango is lost for words. He feels nailed to his seat. His fellow hermits’ eyes boring into his soul. Does he even-?

“How did I die?” He settles on, figuring that that’s as best of a starting point he’s going to get.

Even through his red visor, Tango can see the grim look in Xisuma’s eyes. 

Zedaph gulps, but then speaks up for the first time since he got here. “Er, if I may?” He asks, and Doc nods at him.

“I saw you fighting a raid the other day, so you must have noticed that your iron farm was broken, am I right?”

Tango nods.

“That... that was it,” Zedaph says. “None of us were there, but... you got caught up in it and- yeah. Those ravagers weren’t... They weren’t kind.”

Tango wishes his vision would blur. Wishes he didn’t have to focus on anything. Wishes he didn’t catch how Xisuma is shivering, that he didn’t have to notice how exasperated Doc looks, that he didn’t have to see the _grief_ in Zedaph’s eyes.

But he has to know more. This is _his_ life they’re talking about. He deserves to know, at the very least.

“Then... how did you- why am I still here?” Tango can’t make sense of his own words.

This time Doc takes the lead. It doesn’t slip past Tango how Zedaph puts his hand on Xisuma’s shoulder.

“It was a community effort, of some sorts,” He says. “We all helped, in one way or another. Really grinded and put our heads together to pull it off. I helped with the fine motor control, for example, while Stress looked for a way to create the best kind of synthetic skin we could produce. Xisuma,” Doc nods at him, “Took a copy of your data, your memories, and together with Mumbo they made sure that you would still be you.”

Tango gets up. This is- this is _too much._ He grimaces at the thought that it feels like his brain is overheating, trying to process all of it at once.

He starts walking to the door, ready to head outside, to get _away_ when he feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.

“Tango, wait,” Xisuma says.

It feels strange. He can _feel_ Xisuma’s hand but it doesn’t- it doesn’t feel _real._ Is that just because he had his arm fixed, or-? Now that he knows what happened, knows what has happened to _him,_ he- it’s like he knows nothing at all. It’s like he has to discover everything all over again.

Tango turns around, and faces Xisuma with a newfound energy. Anger?

“Did you ever think about what I- Tango, he- I... What _he_ wanted?”

“Tango, please-”

“I don’t even know if I can still call myself that!” He shakes Xisuma’s hand off of his shoulder. “Who am I, really? Was I really just created because you couldn’t bear to face death?”

Xisuma winces.

“We never discussed any of this!” Tango continues. “You never could have known if I, if Tango would be okay with it. Xisuma, that is _not_ okay. Just. God, we never even talked about it. You didn’t even know if _I_ would be okay with it.” 

Xisuma looks down. “We didn’t want to lose you-”

“-And how do you think _I_ feel about it!?! It’s one thing to resurrect a friend into a robot body, but it’s a whole nother thing to give that damn robot _emotions...!_ Why did you... Why did you give me emotions, X? Why did you make me so life-like?” Fluid drops from his eyes, but Tango knows they’re not tears. It’s just a program, it’s- it’s distress. It makes no _sense._

“...If I’m a robot, then why does it _hurt_ so much?”

This time Zedaph jumps up from his seat and holds out his arms, offering a hug. Tango takes it, lets himself be held. He grasps at Zedaph’s shirt, clenching the fabric in his fists, holding onto him tightly.

“You’re so _selfish,”_ Tango says through his own tears.

“I know,” Xisuma says.

“Dammit, X,” Tango says and he pulls back from Zedaph’s grip, leaning against the doorframe.

“Tango, listen,” Zedaph says. Tango tries to interrupt him but Zedaph shushes him.

“No. I won’t be hearing it. You’re still Tango. You’re every bit Tango as you were before it all happened. You have his memories, his mannerisms, and his way of thinking, too. When you showed up at my cave, I- it was like old times again. You’re _him,_ and that’s that.”

Zedaph grabs and squeezes Tango’s hand for emphasis. He’s smiling at him through tears in his own eyes.

“It’s nobody’s fault. Not yours, not Xisuma’s, not even the ravagers’,” Zedaph says. “Life happens, and we did what we thought was right. I’m sorry you had to get caught up in it all like this.”

Zedaph pulls him in for another hug and Tango accepts it. Melts into it, even. Zedaph’s probably right, but Tango can’t for the life of him wrap his mind around it all. Thoughts are racing inside his head, but he doesn’t even know whether they are really _his_ or not. He feels tired and restless, confused and overloaded at once. Like he needs to run away and be held at the same time. Like he needs to... 

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

Doc speaks up, taking the lead again.

“Well, now that you know, let me point out some useful things. I’m sorry it didn’t go as smooth as any one of us would have hoped.”

Doc walks up to him, just slightly closer. It’s getting quite crowded in front of the door, Doc's makeshift lab isn't big at all.

“The skin Stress made for you is amazing," He says. "It’s water-resistant, but not perfect. Rain is A-okay, but try not to submerge yourself in it fully, okay? Synthetic skin can only do so much.”

Tango nods. It feels like that’s all he can do. Take in information. Be along for this ride, a backseat passenger, watching as others drive him forwards.

“And I know it’s sudden, but if you’d like, we can upgrade some things about you. Night vision, internal communicators... just shout at me and we’ll get to work-”

“-That- that’s a bit much all at once, Doc, sorry. I’m sure it’s great, but... I can’t think about any of that right now.” 

Doc smiles softly. “No, you’re right. It’s a lot to take in.”

It’s silent for a little while after that, none of them dare to say anything more. Tango looks at Zedaph, at Xisuma, and at Doc. They look... tense.

“I think I should go.” Tango turns around, pulling his hand loose from Zedaph’s grip. He almost wants to roll his eyes at the way they all look at him with increased worry.

“Back to my _base,”_ Tango says, and the three of them all visibly relax.

“Let me come with you,” Zedaph says, and after considering it for a moment Tango nods. He can’t find it in him to say no. Plus, it’d be nice to have some company after all of this has been dropped on him. Right?

They part ways with Doc and Xisuma, and though Xisuma looks guilty, Tango lets him hug him.

“I’m so sorry, Tango,” Xisuma says, his voice still shaky. “We’ll find a way to deal with this, I _promise_ you that I’ll make it up to you. Somehow.”

Tango nods, not feeling up to replying with words. He pulls away from Xisuma and Doc pulls him into a hesitant hug next.

“I still think of you as my son, Tango. Don’t forget that,” He says. “I... I care about you, okay?”

Tango nods, and then lets go. He feels about ready to pass out. The sooner he can flop down onto his bed the better.

Zedaph nods at him, and the two of them strap on their elytras. Doc and Xisuma wave them off, and then they take off into the sky, flying silently across the water, until Tango’s own base comes into view.

Tango looks at the yellow building next to his main tower.

His iron farm. 

Not now. Later. He’ll have to process it all first. There’s too much going on right now.

Tango swoops into his main blue building, Zedaph following close behind. As soon as Tango has solid ground underneath his feet he heads straight for his bed. Zedaph’s light chuckle bounces off the walls, and Tango likes how it makes his base feel a bit less empty. It’s a happy sound to (try and) break through his gloomy mood. 

Tango already has his face buried into his pillow, so he’s taken by surprise when he suddenly feels the bed dip next to him. Zedaph puts his hand on Tango’s back and starts brushing soothing circles through his clothes. He can feel the warmth slowly seeping through his skin. Faintly. In the back of his mind.

“You must be exhausted,” Zedaph says softly. “Try and get some sleep, okay?”

...That’s right. It’s late. He should- he should... 

Tango rolls onto his back and looks at Zedaph. _“Can_ I even sleep? Do... do robots sleep?” 

Zedaph looks taken aback, but he regains his composure quickly. “I... don’t know? Have you slept recently?”

“I don’t think I did,” Tango says. “It felt like I passed out a couple of times but thinking about it now it might not have been actual _sleep._ I don’t think I’ve even eaten a single thing since I came back, either, I-” Tango pauses. 

“I’ve lost it, haven’t I? Those... those things that are supposed to keep me _alive.”_

Tango looks outside through his window. The clear skies, the moonlight shining through. Lighting up his base.

“Can, can you stay tonight? I don’t want to be alone,” Tango says, and much to his relief Zedaph nods, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"Of course I'll stay! Can't have you losing things on _my_ watch! I'll stay until we've found it again, no matter how long it might take." He pats Tango’s chest and gets up, and starts digging through the storage room’s chests. He quickly crafts up another bed and plonks it down next to Tango’s. With a yawn Zedaph sinks into the mattress, facing Tango. 

“Good night, Tango,” He hums.

“Sleep tight, Zed.”

It isn’t long before Zedaph falls asleep, the sound of soft snores soon bouncing around the room. Tango can feel Zedaph’s breath against his own face, and briefly wonders if he himself even has to breathe. 

He rolls onto his back, and goes back to staring at the ceiling. Tango feels tired, but it’s like his body won’t allow him the peace of mind to actually fall asleep. To actually pass out and take his mind away from everything for a couple of hours.

He- he’s never going to have that again, is he? The comfort of sleep. That pleasant unconsciousness. That warmth. 

Tango sighs and stretches his arms above him. He looks at them, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. He brings them down again and looks at his hands, at his fingers, from up close. The place where he had to get new skin applied looks no different to the older skin. Like nothing happened at all. Not even a scar remains. Where he would have expected there to be a scar, or at least some discoloration of sorts, it’s just. Nothing. Strange to think that hours ago his inside wiring had been exposed and poking out. It’s strange to think that that’s all still in there.

His hands... they- they look so _real._

...Do they? Is Tango- is he _programmed_ to think that? No. Nonsense. He’s still Tango. Isn’t he? Doc said he was filled with Tango’s memories, nothing else. All of Tango’s data, up until a few days before his... before his death. It’s strange. Weird. Words don’t even begin to cover his thoughts. Thoughts? Do computers even think? A chuckle escapes his mouth. He’s a computer, now. Or always has been. Technically he hasn’t existed for long, has he? Oh god, it hurts to think about. More tears roll down his face but Tango knows they’re not real. Zedaph is deep asleep next to him and he doesn’t want to wake him up. 

Another familiar message appears before his eyes. This one stays longer in sight than the others before it disappears, however.

_[I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL.]_

Tango feels strangely comforted by those words. Grumbot, he...

He’s a robot as well.

He _understands._

Casting one last look at Zedaph’s snoring figure, Tango slips out of his bed. He checks his elytra, and glides out of his window.

Once he decides he’s far away enough to not be noticed by the noise, he fires a rocket and shoots off towards the west side of the shopping district.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are you doing, Tango? Why are you leaving in the middle of the night??


	14. Bot business

Tango flies over the shopping district, shops lit up beautifully with some of the new blue torches and lanterns. Tango would get lost in it if he didn’t have a goal in mind. He turns in mid-air, and lands on the platform in front of Grumbot. Man, he really looks broken and out of commission in the dark like this. Tango walks up to it, a little hesitant.

“Grumbot?” He asks. “Are you there?”

The machine begins to whizz softly, dim lights coming to life as much as they can, and a piece of paper is printed out, just like it did before. Tango walks up and picks the paper off the ground.

_I AM ALWAYS HERE._

“Right, right, I’m sorry,” He says.

Another paper is spat out.

_THAT IS OKAY. HELLO TANGO._

“Hi,” Tango drops himself down, crossing his legs and leaning back against Grumbot’s body. It’s hard to see its face from this angle, but running back and forth to catch its answers doesn’t seem like too great an idea either.

A paper is dropped into his lap.

_YOU ARE UPSET. ARE YOU NOT?_

Tango sighs, clutching the paper. “I guess I am, yeah. I just- it’s a lot to take in, I suppose. I didn’t know who else to go to.”

_THANK YOU FOR COMING BACK._

“Hey man, you must be lonely too, no?” Tango awkwardly pats Grumbot’s metal. It makes a clunking sound that reverberates through his body.

 _BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU?_ Grumbot responds.

“I...” Tango frowns. “I- I just don’t understand why they wouldn’t tell me!” He blurts out. “Why they would keep such a thing from me! I still haven’t wrapped my mind around the fact that I’m not- that I’m not _human,_ but. Come on, telling someone that he’s not who he thinks he is seems like quite an important detail that you can’t just ‘forget’, right?”

_I AGREE. THEY TOLD ME FROM DAY ONE WHAT I AM AND WHAT I WAS MADE FOR. EVERYTHING WAS CLEAR TO ME. UNTIL THEY LEFT._

Tango nods. “What if I’d gotten hurt because they ‘forgot’ to tell me that I’m not made of flesh and blood anymore?! Well, I guess I _did_ get hurt in the end, but Doc said- he said that I’m not supposed to go in the water. My base is right next to the ocean! They left me on my own for _weeks,_ just _hoping_ that I wouldn’t go for a swim?! What the hell?!”

_DID MY CREATORS FIX YOU?_

“Wh- no, no they didn’t. Doc did, I asked him to. I haven’t seen either of them at all, really,” Tango says. “Wait, no! I saw Grian last time! When I first talked to you!” Tango shoots upright. “You didn’t say a word after that, why’s that?”

_I... I COULD NOT FACE HIM._

“Ah. I guess... I guess we have more in common than I thought,” Tango sighs.

 _IS THERE SOMEONE YOU CAN NOT FACE EITHER?_ Grumbot asks.

“I guess so, yeah. He saw me. Saw the moment I- I got hurt. I chased after him to get answers, but he wouldn’t talk to me. He pushed me away, quite literally, actually. I thought... Well, I guess I know now why he was keeping that a secret from me, but. Jeez. I thought he was still my friend, but... it doesn’t feel like that. Not right now, at least.”

_I AM SORRY TO HEAR THAT._

Tango grimaces. “It’s okay, Grumbot. That’s just life, you know how it is.”

_LIFE. IS THAT WHAT LIFE IS?_

Tango gasps. Is... _is_ Grumbot alive? Is _he_ still...? 

“...I don’t know, Grumbot,” He says. “I don’t know anymore. It feels like I’ve lost it.” Tango chuckles dryly. 

_YOU FOUND OUT WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU, THEN._

“I did, yeah. Kind of, I- I don’t really _understand_ but...” Tango turns his head to look up at Grumbot. “You were here the whole time I wasn’t! You can fill me in on what happened, can’t you!” He perks up.

Two papers float into his lap.

_THOUGH I WAS BOUND BY MY LACK OF FUNCTIONING LEGS AND WHAT MY CREATORS TOLD ME,_

_YES, I WAS HERE. I WATCHED._

Tango looks back down, at the shopping district in the distance. There’s a strange mustache-shaped building in the way, but honestly, Tango can’t expect any less from Grian and Mumbo.

“What did you see?” He asks.

_THEY BUILT MORE SHOPS. THEY CAMPAIGNED. IF ONLY I COULD TURN MY HEAD I COULD SEE MORE._

“Grian and Mumbo built you, didn’t they? That seems like a major design flaw to me.”

_THEY HELPED BUILD YOU, TOO._

Tango jerks up at those words.

“They... they did? Even Grian? I thought-”

_HE HAS BUILT ROBOTS BEFORE._

“Like you,” Tango adds. “Huh.”

_HE MADE YOU CLOTHES. OF A STRONGER MATERIAL. HE TOLD ME BEFORE HE TRIED TO SHUT ME DOWN._

“That’s... awfully nice and morbid at the same time.” Tango leans back against Grumbot again. He inspects his hands again, runs his fingers down the fabric of his sleeves. He can- he can _feel_ it, but... something’s off. He guesses he knows why, now. Nerves must be an awfully tricky thing to recreate out of redstone.

The two of them sit in silence after that for a while. Tango is still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he _died,_ and that he technically isn’t the original Tango. That he isn’t human. Not anymore. Or, that he has never even been human in the first place, technically.

The gentle buzzing from Grumbot’s internal redstone mechanisms is a nice white noise, and Tango wishes he could fall asleep to it. That... that gives him an idea. Or a question, rather.

“Hey, Grumbot?” Tango says.

_YES?_

“I... I haven’t slept. Not since I woke up, technically. I haven’t eaten anything, and I’m not hungry, either. These are,” Tango pauses. “These are robot things, right? Wh... What else is there? What else have I lost?”

_I DO NOT KNOW. I WISH I COULD TELL YOU._

“Naww, that’s... that’s okay. Thank you, Grumbot.”

Grumbot’s circuitry hums louder in response, and Tango appreciates how comforting it feels.

He’ll... he’ll figure this out somehow. He’ll get used to it, and things will go back to as they were. Or as close to it as possible, he’s sure. The hermits are still there for him, right? Or else they wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of bringing him back if they didn’t want him. ...Right?

 _Yes._ Scar greeted him with joy, Tango recalls. And Bdubs was so excited to see him again! Impulse, he... 

It’ll all work out. He just has to keep going. Keep living.

Out in the distance Tango can see a glimpse of sunlight peeking over the horizon. Despite the fact that he hasn’t slept at all, he hasn’t actually taken the time to sit down and look at the sunrise yet. He hasn’t laid back and rested and taken a moment for himself in the slightest.

Tango watches, and takes it all in. The way the sky’s colors change, the way the sunlight slowly casts down onto all the shops, all the buildings. It looks so peaceful. Even if shops will be demolished eventually. Even if it’ll never stay the same. 

Tango wishes it would. Wishes he could capture this moment in time. Stop the sun right in its current position, stop the things from ever changing.

Another paper prints out and lands next to Tango on the ground.

_IT’S BEAUTIFUL._

Tango looks up, really takes in all the details of Grumbot’s worn-down body. How many times must it have rained? How many times have Grumbot’s circuits been flooded? How long until the rust makes his iron body so brittle that he collapses under his own weight? Will he still be able to answer him? Will he still be able to talk? It’s a miracle that Grumbot still works, Tango thinks, given his current state.

‘Beautiful,’ Grumbot called the sunrise. He must see this every day. He can’t look at anything else. Tango looks back at the horizon. 

“Yeah, it is.”

They watch in silence for another moment, until Tango can’t take sitting still anymore. He gets up and stuffs Grumbot’s papers carefully into his pocket. He’s about ready to say goodbye and leave when another piece of paper slides out of Grumbot’s machinery.

_ARE YOU GOING?_

“Yeah, I- I need to do something. I don’t know, just... look like a regular functioning human being, I suppose?”

_GOOD LUCK, TANGO._

Tango chuckles. “Thank you, Grumbot. For everything.” Tango readies his elytra.

_WAIT. BEFORE YOU GO. MY PAPER RESERVE IS RUNNING LOW._

Tango jerks back at those words, looks up at Grumbot’s busted face, at the faintly blinking lights behind his face panel.

“You should have said so sooner!” Tango exclaims. “I can bring you more, I have a whole farm! Don’t you worry!”

_DOES THAT MEAN THAT YOU WILL BE BACK?_

Tango nods, smiling. “Yes, of course I’ll be back.”

_THANK YOU, TANGO._

He stares at those words for a minute, taking them in. He realizes what those words must mean to Grumbot. That... that somebody never came back to him. 

Tango nods at Grumbot and shoots off with his elytra, into the shopping district.

Might as well check his profits while he’s nearby.

As Tango walks around he admires the way Scar’s efforts help look the shopping district that much better. There’s not a block of mycelium in sight anymore, Scar really wasn’t fooling around! He doesn’t see the mayor around right now, (it’s still rather early, after all), but if he’s taking a break Tango wouldn’t blame him.

He quickly darts into his rocket shop to check his profits. Looks like the hermits are slowly realizing that he’s back in business, Tango smiles as he grabs his rightfully earned diamonds. He pops them into the nearby ender chest, already feeling more at ease with the normalcy of the situation. Checking profits and stocking shops is something that the hermits do daily! It’s a normal, _human_ thing to do. Tango is sure that some early birds like Bdubs and Cub are also walking around to check their profits as well.

He walks back out of his shop, and from up the little hill he can see a lot of the shopping district. It’s really starting to look great, Tango thinks. It’s quite crowded, but he can’t expect anything else from the hermits. He spots movement to his right, and sees two people fussing around, setting up yellow and black tape around a building in the distance. Curious, Tango walks closer, trying to see if he can recognize the people, or maybe even the building from afar. It’s- it’s the Jrumbot shop?

Tango stops when he gets to Stress’ glass shop, hiding behind it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t want anyone to see him. Maybe it’s Grumbot’s words that have scared him a little. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re standing close, doing something to Jrumbot.

From here Tango can hear their voices clearly. What are they doing up so early? He, perhaps unintentionally, listens in on their conversation.

“Grian... Are we good people? For doing this?” Mumbo’s voice sounds.

Tango hears Grian sigh. “I think so.”

“He looks... sad.” 

“Don’t be silly, Mumbo, it can’t animate like that,” Grian responds. “Besides, it’s just a thing. It’s served its purpose, and now it’s time to clear the land for a new shop.”  
Mumbo hums. “I suppose you’re right. I’m still a bit ‘eh’ about it all, though, I mean-”

“I know, I know,” Grian cuts him off.

Tango gulps. It’d only be awkward if he got caught right now. He crouches down, despite fully knowing that it wouldn’t make a difference.

“It’s not a real person,” Grian’s voice sounds.

“Well...”

“It can’t think.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Mumbo.” There’s a kind of finality to Grian’s tone.

“It’s just a robot. Barely that, even. It’s just a husk with a nice exterior. If you really want to you can rebuild him at your base. But over here, in the _middle_ of the shopping district it’s just starting to become an eyesore. This is a prime location for any new shop!”

Those words really dig their way into Tango’s mind. He- he really _is_ just a husk, isn't he? A copy. A nice exterior with no interior. Something for people to look at, to remember their deceased friend. They leave him to his own things so he won’t bother them. He’s just here for the hermits who want to see Tango’s face again, he-

He isn’t actually Tango, is he?

Tango’s head starts to hurt again, and he’s about to sneak away from the glass shop, away from Jrumbot, away from Grian and Mumbo when he hears a voice in the distance, screaming, steadily becoming louder and louder. Tango turns around, and only has a split second to recognize Zedaph’s figure before he _barrels_ into him. Zedaph yelps and with a loud _thud_ Tango is thrown to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Zedaph appears!!


	15. Best friend of the year award-ificator

“Zedaph! What the crap?!” Tango exclaims.

“I’ve been looking for you all morning!” Zedaph pants. “Why did you just leave like that? You- you scared the _crap_ out of me!”

Tango gets up, patting himself down.

“Well you didn’t need to barrel into me with your amazing elytra skills. Message me first, at least.”

“But I did!” Zedaph says. “You didn’t respond, which is why I got so worried!” There’s a kind of panic in Zedaph’s eyes, slowly making its way to a more relieved look.

Afraid that this will turn into a repeat of what happened with Impulse, Tango takes out his communicator and, indeed, is greeted with many direct messages from Zedaph.

_ <Zedaph> Tango?? Where are you? _

_ <Zedaph> Did you leave? _

_ <Zedaph> Please tell me you’re alright at least _

_ <Zedaph> ??? _

_ <Zedaph> Tango???? _

He then switches to the main chat.

_ <Zedaph> Has anyone seen Tango?? He isn’t at his base _

_ <falsesymmetry> no? _

_ <iskall85> does he... does he know? _

_ <Xisuma> He knows, yeah. Please don’t bombard him _

_ <GoodTimeWithScar> of coarse _

_ <falsesymmetry> and he isn’t in any of his shops? _

_ <Xisuma> I think i saw him in the shopping district this morning _

_ <GoodTimeWithScar> yeah he’s here, walking around _

_ <Zedaph> oh thank god _

_ <Zedaph> Is he okay? I’m coming over _

_ <GoodTimeWithScar> he seems fine _

“Oh,” Tango says.

There’s some messages from Impulse as well, but Tango doesn’t even open that chat. He doesn’t want to, and besides, Zedaph is already trying to get his attention again.

“Did something happen?” Zedaph asks. “Why didn’t you leave a note or anything for me?”

“No, I’m fine- I just, got caught up in something, I suppose. Sorry.”

“I know it’s...” Zedaph says a little softer. “I know I might be overreacting a little, but...” 

“No, I... I think I understand,” Tango interrupts. “It’s all new for you as well, right?”

Zedaph shakes his head, a soft smile making its way to his face. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re here. You’re safe.” Zedaph grabs Tango into a hug, but Tango still feels a little out of it. Like he isn’t fully there with his mind, still.

Still enveloped in Zedaph’s hug, Tango can hear footsteps behind him. Faintly, but they’re becoming louder and louder. Grian and Mumbo, he’s pretty sure. They must have seen Zedaph fly past and crash into him. They must have heard their voices, as well. Zedaph crashing into him wasn’t exactly quiet, after all.

The footsteps stop just behind them. Tango knows they’re looking at him. They know about him. They’ve always known about him. And now they know that he knows. And he knows that they know that he knows. 

“Oh, hey Zed! Tango!” Grian greets them. Zedaph pulls away and waves. Tango turns around. Grian is peeking at them from around the corner of Stress’ shop.

He’s looking at him differently. His eyes are burning into Tango. Burning right through him. Or is this how the hermits have always looked at him and did he just not notice before? Tango doesn’t feel too good.

“Good morning! What are you two up to today?” Zedaph asks. Tango isn’t sure if Zedaph can actually feel the tension in the air and if he’s trying to ease it, or if he just genuinely is trying to make smalltalk.

Grian gestures back with a nod of his head. “Some cleaning, and then possibly a new business venture, who knows!”

Zedaph looks at the big robot. Mumbo appears from around the corner as well. He looks nervous, waving awkwardly at Zedaph and him.

Tango’s head still hurts, it feels like his brain is pounding against his skull, even though he knows that that is now physically impossible for him. Still, he forces a smile as Grian and Mumbo walk up to them.

“Naww,” Zedaph says, looking at the robot-building behind them. “I’m gonna miss that guy, he’s adorable!”

Grian laughs. “Yeah, it was a real cutie. But the law’s the law. I- I don’t think we made a _single_ diamond with this one, actually. We only lost. Lost all of our budget and for what? Not even a single vote!”

Mumbo chuckles softly. “I still don’t know what to do with the land once it’s free again, though. No clue about which corners of the market I can still tackle with all of my farms.”

Grian swings an arm around Mumbo’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry about that, we’ll find something! It’s good to have options, though.”

“Yeah, yeah. You say ‘we’ as if we’re a team, though,” Mumbo laughs.

Grian pouts. “Aren’t we?”

“I dunno, mate.”

The two of them burst into laughter at that, and Zedaph joins in on the laughter as well. Tango feels... he’s not sure what it is he feels, exactly.

“And what about that big guy over yonder?” Zedaph asks, taking Tango by surprise. “You don’t plan on destroying him anytime soon, right?”

“What?” Grian says. “No, no no no. Grumbot’s safe and contained, he isn’t gonna cause any problems. As long as that’s the case we’ll leave him up, I think. He’s not in the way, is he?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Zedaph shakes his head. 

Tango has to ask. He _has_ to be certain. He can’t lose the one person... the _one_ thing that’s helping him sort his thoughts out right now. Or anytime soon. Or at all, he thinks.

“But...” He says. “He isn’t making you any diamonds, is he?”

“Well, no, but he isn’t on shopping district ground, either. Scar’s got no say over him,” Grian grins.

“Alright. Good,” Tango says. He feels a little more at ease, a little more relaxed, hearing that. Even _if_ Grian gave him the heebie-jeebies the last time he saw him.

“Yeah! He was fun!” Zedaph adds. “I want to try and make something similar in my base, sometime.”

Grian laughs and Mumbo shakes his head.

“It’s not worth it,” Grian says. “Way too much effort to keep running all the time. It lags the server, you’ve seen what happened when he had a breakdown!”

“Well, not seen, but I did _feel_ it-”  
“Exactly! That’s exactly why we can’t have him online anymore, let alone a whole other one!” Grian laughs, but there’s a hint of... of nervousness in his voice.

“Which is also precisely why we’re getting rid of this guy, here,” He continues, but Tango can feel that he has started to zone out again.

Grumbot is lagging the server? Isn’t... Isn’t that _their_ fault for building him like that, though? Why would they punish _him_ for something that they themselves made? Tango doesn’t understand. 

He shakes his head. He can’t get wrapped up in this. Not right now. It’s not his business, it’s not his build. He’s got nothing to do with this. _Nothing._

“Well, we best get back to our work,” Mumbo says, bringing Tango back to the real world. “We want it gone by noon, still got a lot of other projects to take care of.” He scratches the back of his neck.

Grian nods, equipping his pickaxe. “Yep! Lotta blocks to be mined and placed!”

Zedaph laughs. “No worries! Good luck with all that!”

They bid each other farewell. Grian and Mumbo turn back to their Jrumbot shop, already bickering about what they should do with the plot of land after, while Zedaph and Tango start to walk further down the cobblestone path. 

“Oh!, hey!” Zedaph perks up, stopping in his tracks. “I remember now! I came to find you because I had an idea!”

“Oh?”

“I feel like you need to cheer up a bit, so why don’t we work on your base? It’s been a while since its seen any upgra- er, additions!”

Tango pulls his face into a smile. “Yeah, you’re right. I’d like that... a bit of a distraction. What did you have in mind, then?”

Zedaph smiles. “Another anvil-launch-i-ficator?” He struggles trying to say it the way Tango always does. “How do you call it?”

Now Tango smiles for real. “An anvil launcher-ificator, yeah! All right, let’s do it!”

Zedaph bounces on the balls of his feet, clearly excited to get to work on a wacky contraption. Grinning, Tango checks his elytra, and he hands Zedaph a few rockets as well. They shoot off into the sky mere moments later.

It still takes many more rockets to get up into the air than Tango is used to, but he supposes he now knows why that is. Redstone can be heavy. Metal is _definitely_ heavy. 

When they get to his base they start to plan out where Tango wants the anvil launcher to be, and quickly get to work. The anvils are going to be launched from the top of the blue building, all the way to the back of his base, right next to the chicken-cooker-ificator, where they’ll travel underground and up through a water elevator back to the beginning to complete the loop.

Tango and Zedaph gather all the redstone bits and start laying out the groundwork. They talk nonsense like old times as they work, theorizing and talking about what other kinds of silly contraptions they’d be able to make out of seemingly unusual blocks. 

It’s nice, and over time Tango’s headache dissipates again. Still, he can’t get Grian and Mumbo’s words out of his head. They were talking about Jrumbot, he knows, but... it felt like they were talking about _him._

Halfway through the day, and quite a lot of the launching circuit done already, the two of them take a break, sitting down on the blue roof, their legs dangling over the edge. Zedaph is nibbling down some carrots and a steak, while Tango is just looking, taking in the sun (if he _can,_ at least). He can see the edge of the shopping district from up here, pointing out the occasional hermit zipping through the sky, Zedaph and he taking turns in guessing who they think it is.

Tango listens to his heartbeat. That steady beat, keeping rhythm no matter what. That thumping in his chest... It’s not his heart, is it? Or, Tango supposes it is, but it’s not a human heart. It must serve a function, seeing as it helps keep him alive, but... it’s mechanical. It doesn’t speed up when he’s nervous or afraid. Always beating at that same rhythm, pumping cooling fluid or whatever it is throughout his body.  
A sick mockery of what life is supposed to feel like. What would, _should_ remind him that he’s still alive, only serves to remind him of the fact that he _died._

It’s like Zedaph can sense what he’s thinking, as he leans his head onto Tango’s shoulder and hums softly. Just... showing that he’s here for him. He always does that when Tango isn’t feeling too good, and this time is no exception.

Tango sighs. He wants to tell Zedaph everything. How he’s feeling, how he’s been talking to Grumbot, how the idea of Jrumbot being demolished makes him feel weird... But he can’t. It feels like he _can’t._

“You’re thinking too much,” Zedaph says.

Tango frowns. “No I’m not! Let’s get back to work! Are you ready?” Tango jumps up, Zedaph’s eyes following his every movement. He holds out his hand for Zedaph to take, to hoist him up to his feet.

“If you say so,” Zedaph shoots him a sympathetic smile. “But sure, alright! I’m ready to jump back into it!” 

Zedaph doesn’t take Tango’s offered hand, however. Instead he dangerously hops down the ledge, activating his elytra about halfway down before swooping back up into the sky with a single rocket. 

Tango grabs a rocket, shakes his head, and follows after Zedaph.

“God, you’re the _worst_ at making bubble elevators!” Tango laughs. 

The two of them have been able to get back into the groove of things, laughing at each other’s blunders and derps, ever so slowly making progress with the build. It would have gone a lot faster if Tango were to build it on his own, he knows. But would it have been as _fun?_ He doesn’t think so. Not by a long shot.

Zedaph laughs as he picks up the kelp that has somehow broken off as it’s strewn about all over the place now. Tango watches as the water that was previously being held in place by perfectly placed glass seeps into the ground.

“Good thing we built this on the grass and not on top of more delicate redstone,” Zedaph says, and Tango nods. Jeez, it would be a pain to redo if, say, a whole layer of his sugarcane farm got washed away. Tango doesn’t even want to think about it.

“Crap, I’m out of water buckets! Here,” Zedaph tosses an empty bucket and Tango almost doesn’t catch it.

“Hey! Careful!” He yells, still laughing.

“You get some more while I clean all of this up. I’ll take the blame for it,” Zedaph smiles.

Tango squints at him, but Zedaph is already busying himself with building up the scaffolding to replace the ‘mysteriously’ broken glass. He turns around on his heels and walks back towards the open water in front of his base. Honestly, who needs an infinite water source when the sea is right outside your front door?

Tango stops at the edge where water meets land. ‘Delicate redstone’. Doc had warned him about water, too. He... Tango is _made_ of redstone, isn’t he? It’s scary to think about how something so simple, so _normal_ could just... Kill him, like that. Probably. That’s what Doc meant, right? 

Tango quickly scoops up a bucketful of water, and makes his way back to Zedaph. He deposits the water quickly, careful to not even touch a drop of it. Tango lets Zedaph have another go at placing the kelp, and apart from the weird look that that gets him all goes well. 

While Zedaph is turned around to dig through some shulkers, Tango catches his reflection in the glass pipeline. His solid red eyes almost look as if they have bags under them. He really looks... exhausted. Whoever was responsible for his face really outdid themself, Tango thinks.

The rest of the day goes by quickly, and now that the water elevator is installed, they make a lot of quick progress. At the end of the day, standing on top of the main blue building, a brand new launcher-ificator stands, sending a lot more anvils flying around Tango’s base.

Tango smiles, trying not to think about whether or not it’s an _actual_ smile or whether he’s been programmed to mimic one. But he can’t deny the fact that seeing more entities flying around his base makes him feel happy. Satisfied, even, one might say. The launcher fits right in with the others, and the change in angle is rather nice, too. 

Zedaph must have noticed Tango’s mood again, though, as Tango suddenly finds himself enveloped in a hug from behind. It’s an awkward position, but Tango appreciates it. He appreciates everything Zedaph has done for him, done _with_ him, the entire day.

“Now there’s a project well done,” Zedaph says, letting go again. “I better head back, though, dinner’s not gonna make itself.”

“Not with that smelter of yours, no!” Tango chuckles. He still doesn’t know if he thinks that that weird jump-powered furnace or whatever it’s called is an amazingly brilliant, or an amazingly ridiculous idea. He’s leaning towards the latter, at the moment. Having to work to get your food cooked? Psh, he can’t imagine!

“It’s the perfect balance between ingenuity and functionality! It balances itself out!” Zedaph laughs, and packs up his shulkers.

He then moves closer, steps up to Tango, his hand twitching as if he wanted to do something, but decided against it.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, alright?” Zedaph says, his voice a lot softer than before. “I meant it when I said it. You’re still you. Take all the time you need to get back. It’s... it’s a lot. You deserve to feel included.” 

Tango nods, mouth curling up into a half-smile. Truth be told, he isn’t sure if he believes Zedaph’s words quite yet, but he appreciates it. He appreciates him as a whole.

“Thank you, Zed.”

“Are you gonna be alright tonight?”

Tango looks up at the sky, searching for the position of the sun. It looks to be quite late already.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay, don’t worry,” He says. “Thank you, again.”

“Hey, no worries. I’ll drop everything in a heartbeat and fly on over in the middle of the night if I have to. Just shout at me, and I’ll be right there, okay?”

Tango doesn’t get the chance to thank him a third time, as Zedaph smiles at him and shoots off into the sky. His ‘byeeee!’ fades into the distance with him.

Tango looks in the direction Zedaph disappeared in a moment longer, and then lays back down, watching the sun set in the distance. 

He watches as stars start appearing in the sky, decorating the sky like a glittery globe. And Tango knows that he can’t sleep, but it doesn’t hurt to close his eyes and pretend he still can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We should hopefully be able to get back to the regular 1-chapter-every-5-days schedule in january!! Thank you so so much for sticking with me through this story <3


	16. I’m the mechanical boy

Tango only opens his eyes when the sun starts to rise again. He doesn’t think he can count the amount of nights he’s gone without sleeping on two hands anymore. 

He sighs, not wanting to get up yet. He notes how he isn’t feeling uncomfortable at all. It feels like he could lay here for days, maybe weeks on end and be okay with it. Comfortable, even. 

Usually, when one lays on their back on top of a concrete building, they’d end up with at least  _ some  _ back pain or strain in their muscles. A slight discomfort, at least. But now? Nothing. No kick to get him to move into a different position, no pull to do something different.

When the sun begins to shine directly into his eyes, though, Tango gets up, stretching before it dawns on him that it probably doesn’t have any effect. Force of habit.

He checks his elytra and swoops down into his storage room. His communicator buzzes in his pocket, signalling the income of more private messages, but Tango can’t be bothered. Sure, he just spent the entire night in a semi-sleep-like state, trying to collect his thoughts about everything, but he still feels so very lost. If anything, he feels  _ more  _ lost because now that Zedaph has gone home again, he has no clue what to do. 

Tango really doesn’t feel like starting a new project, and he doesn’t want to work on his base either, no matter how desperately his buildings need roofs. Because that would mean having to use his and Impulse’s shared concrete machine, and he can’t risk running into Impulse, not right now. Not until Tango has cleared his mind.

His thoughts drift back to that day. The moment he found out. The fight with Impulse, the lava, his  _ grave...  _

He can’t face Impulse right now. Not after all the hurt Tango unintentionally caused him. The  _ grief  _ he caused him simply by trying to make things better.

Would it all have been different if he never found out? If he didn’t chase after Impulse that time? Would he be living a lie, if that were the case? Would he... would he be  _ okay  _ with that..?

Did... did the others ever plan on telling him that he died at all? Were they going to let him live (or, exist?) in bliss? Just like that?

Tango shakes his head. Maybe... maybe he imagined it all. Everything. It’s too ridiculous for words! He’s supposedly a robot copy of the data of the hermit named Tango, who unfortunately perished in an accident so horrific none of the hermits want to tell him about it. It even  _ sounds  _ ridiculous! 

Maybe none of it ever happened. Maybe he fell into the lava and got delirious from drinking too many health potions afterwards. Maybe he’s still asleep, going into week 6 or 7, and the hermits are still trying to get him to wake up. Tango hopes they’ll wake him up soon.  _ Please  _ wake him up soon.

Tango lightly slaps himself in the face. It feels... muted, almost. But he  _ can  _ feel it. It isn’t a dream.

Maybe it isn’t there, Tango thinks. Maybe he didn’t read the name correctly. Maybe he hallucinated the entire thing! If at least that part isn’t true then it means he’s still alive, right? Right! 

Tango shakes his head. Now he  _ has _ to go and check the site to make sure he isn’t going insane, isn’t he? He tries to remember roughly where he saw the grave. It was all the way out by the world border, that he knows. He’d walked for quite a bit, along the edge of a forest.

He knows he won’t be able to do anything until he’s certain. Until he knows for sure that he isn’t going mad. Tango stuffs his pockets full of rockets, and launches himself into the northern direction.

It takes a while for the area to come into view, but when it does Tango feels a lot less hyper about it. He lands about a chunk’s distance away from the little valley, walking the rest of the way.

It looks just as he remembers it.

But there’s someone there, this time, Tango notices. He walks closer, listening to the tune the person is humming to himself. Tango recognizes it. He recognizes Etho’s voice.

What in the world is Etho doing  _ here? _

He looks to be... planting flowers? Tango’s curiosity now focused on Etho’s presence, rather than the grave itself, Tango finds himself filled with even more questions than answers.

He nearly trips over a bunch of loose items at the top of the hill, silently cursing at himself as he sidesteps to catch his balance.

“Oh! Hey Tango, what’s up?” Etho greets him once he turns around, surely having noticed all the noise that Tango was making. “Would you mind passing me that bucket?”

Tango, now more confused than ever- at Etho’s cheerful tone, at his... well,  _ everything  _ about Etho is confusing, but... considering he’s working next to, well, it is clearly a  _ grave,  _ is... yeah. Tango looks down at the empty bucket at his feet, picks it up, and passes it to Etho nonetheless.

“Thank you,” Etho says, and he scoops up some water from a nearby pond. He maneuvers back through the flowers to water the ones he must have just planted, Tango thinks, looking at the dirt underneath his fingernails.

“Perfect,” Etho says once the bucket is empty. “Lovely, don’t you think?”

Tango, with a slightly clearer mind than the last time he was here, notices how there’s more poppies than any other flower around. He nods.

Tango steps out of the way and watches a bit longer, watches Etho maintain the flowers, plucking out any wilted petals. Planting new flowers, as well as relighting the torches that have gone out. He talks to the plants, softly, jokingly. He even grabs a piece of wool to polish the gravestone itself, to clean it of any dirt.

“...Why do this?” Tango eventually asks. Etho looks back.

“What do you mean?”

Tango gestures toward the little area he’s been working on. “Why go through all of this? All of the grief, all of the pain, only to replace me? I’m here, but you’ve still got a grave for me? For... for Tango?”

Etho’s eyes are kind, and he turns around to face Tango fully.

“I guess it’s got to do with respect,” He says. “Yes, we brought you back because we couldn’t live without you, but that doesn’t mean that we should forget what happened. We shouldn’t cover up the truth. It’s a part of our, and your, history.”

“Huh.” Tango lets it sink in for a moment. “Was it planned from the start not to tell me? Did you think I’d figure it out on my own?”

“Well you did figure it out, didn’t you?” There’s something else to the tone that Etho says those words with.

Tango keeps his eyes locked at him.

“But that’s not the point you’re trying to make, I understand,” Etho says, lightly shaking his head. “I don’t know what everybody else was thinking for sure. We were all so focussed on getting you back that we didn’t think that far ahead, I suppose.”

“That... that makes a surprising amount of sense, knowing you all,” Tango says. Etho’s eyes light up in a genuine smile at that, and already Tango feels more at ease.

He sits down in the grass, twirling some of it between his fingers. Etho hesitates for a moment, but then sits down next to him as well. Not as close as Zedaph would have, but still close enough to be comforting.

“You don’t happen to know more details about my... my death, do you?” Tango asks.

Etho hums. “That depends, what do you wanna know?”

“Not the gritty details, just...  _ How?  _ I still don’t understand and  _ I’m  _ the one who died!” 

“I suppose that’s fair, yeah,” Etho chuckles. “There’s not much to it, in all honesty. You got caught up in your iron farm, the ravagers had a nice meal, and bits and pieces of you ended up in your storage system. Impulse found you, told chat, and-”

“Whoa, wait-  _ Impulse  _ found me? He saw...”

Etho nods. “Yeah, if he hadn’t you probably would have-”

“Oh... oh no.” It feels like the world is spinning. He found him. He  _ saw  _ him. Impulse saw everything. Tango didn’t- he didn’t know. He... He hadn’t known that it was  _ Impulse  _ who found him. Who saw his body, mangled and bloody and  _ dead  _ like that- Oh god.

That means that all those times Tango came after him, seeing his face he must have been reminded of that time he- Tango takes a deep breath. It feels like he should be getting sick.

“Hey, still with us?” Etho asks. Tango nods, trying not to think about what such a sight must have looked like.

“Planning for your robot body began that very same day, if I remember correctly,” Etho continues. Tango is thankful for that. “We had a big meeting about everything, and decided unanimously that we should try to bring you back.”

Tango plucks some of the grass, fidgeting with it as he listens. Trying to imagine what such a meeting must have looked like. How all the hermits must have felt. What the atmosphere must have been like. He can imagine that the hermits might not have been a hundred percent rational at that time. If... if they really had a meeting  _ immediately  _ after his death, then... 

“And we all helped! Some people contributed bigger parts than others, but all of them were, or  _ are, _ indispensable,” Etho says. “I worked on your eyes, for example. And I have to say, I’m mighty proud with how they turned out.”

Tango looks up, into Etho’s mismatched eyes. He... Etho has one red eye, as well. It makes sense, Tango supposes. It’s all slowly,  _ ever so slowly  _ starting to make sense. He just never thought that... that Etho... 

“You have a mechanical eye as well!” Tango says.

Etho nods, smiling behind his mask.

“And yours are much more advanced than mine. I’m a little jealous, not gonna lie,” He laughs.

“Well, I gotta say that they threw me off at first, but, red  _ is  _ my favorite color,” Tango smiles. 

“...Right! Of course! I knew that! Totally!” Etho laughs and Tango barks out a proper laugh this time. 

The sun is starting to hang rather low in the sky, Tango notices. Shame, he’d love to hang out with Etho longer. He didn’t expect to find him here. Hell, he didn’t expect to find  _ anyone  _ here, but... it’s nice. It feels nice.

Then something comes to mind. “Wait, didn’t you build Doc his mechanical eye thing as well?” Tango asks, recalling the countless mechanical body parts in Doc’s lab. Ranging from legs to fingers to even, indeed, eyes.

“The initial design was mine, yeah,” Etho says. “Doc’s improved upon it a lot since then, though.”

“Awesome.”

“Speaking of, have you ever thought about upgrades?” Etho asks.

Tango picks at the grass again. “I think Doc suggested something similar right after I found out, so, no. Not really. Not yet. Why?”

“I mean, I only have the one redstone eye, but it’s got some pretty neat functions,” Etho explains. “Night vision, zoom function, hands-free chat... It can even display my current coordinates at the bottom, if I need to! I don’t use that one too much, but it’s available if needed. We went pretty basic for you to make it as simple and human as possible, but things can be swapped around. Things can be changed, if you want.”

Tango grabs another fistful of grass, thinking. It  _ would  _ be pretty useful to be able to use those kinds of things. They’d make projects and surviving in general a whole lot easier. But it still freaks him out a bit. More than a bit, actually. Would he be able to turn it off?  _ How  _ would he even turn it on and off? That... that would be one step too far right now, Tango thinks. Viewing your coordinates at the bottom of your vision? How- how does that even  _ work? _

“I’ll think about it.” Tango settles on. 

“That’s fair,” Etho says. “And if you want ears where your hands are, that can be arranged as well.” He says with such a tone of voice that Tango almost can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

They sit in silence for a few minutes after that. Tango leans back and looks up at the sky, noting how the day seems to have gone by quicker than he would have expected. He really would have loved to talk to Etho some more, but it sounds like he’s all talked out for now. Tango sighs He supposes he is, too.

Well, guess it’s time to fly thousands of blocks back to his base again before it gets too dark.

“I see it’s getting quite late,” Etho says, having come to the same conclusion. “I should head back. Thank you for helping me with your grave, today!”

“But I didn’t even-”

“-But you did! I’ll be seeing you, then.” And before Tango knows it Etho disappears into thin air, leaving behind only a few floating purple particles.

_ Ender pearl,  _ Tango thinks, before he gets any crazy ideas or theories about Etho’s secret past life that he obviously has.

Tango gets up, looking back at the small burial site. It looks... it looks cozy. Warm. Nice. Cared for. Tango can just about make out his own name in the stone from here. It’s... it’s strange. Not as shocking as last time, obviously, but still very strange. It’s especially strange to think that his- his  _ body  _ is actually down there. In the ground. So close.

Those five letters in the headstone almost look illuminated by the torches underneath. It’s a little easier to look at, this time around. It doesn’t send Tango’s mind spinning, and it doesn’t send panic rushing through his veins, either.

He doesn’t look at it for too long, however. He really does have to make his way back. 

As he flies back Tango thinks. That was a strange talk. It’s not every day you talk to a friend about, well, your  _ own _ death. Indeed very weird, but Tango supposes it did help a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see? it's not all doom and gloom c:
> 
> ~~if you got the reference in the title & the chapter itself I will give you a high five and love you forever hfdjshfsd~~


	17. Processing

The sun has fully set when Tango darts through his cartoon base with another rocket, flying straight past it to make his way to the shopping district.

On his way back from the gravesite Tango decided that he wants to try and get more organized, and he’ll start with being fully stocked up on items so that he doesn’t have to ‘borrow’ from Impulse and Zedaph all the time. The last time he tried to raid Impulse’s storage system was... yeah. It didn’t go too well. But since he doesn’t need to sleep anyway, night is as good a time as ever to take a trip to the cowmercial district, no?

Tango touches down in front of the town hall, a building he hasn’t paid much attention to, before. He vaguely takes note of the pile of diamonds inside, arranged in a chair-like manner. Those must be the diamonds the hermits all paid with for their plots of land. It looks pretty nice, Tango thinks. Quite fitting for someone like Scar. 

As Tango starts to walk he notices a faint, red glow cast over everything he sees. Waving a hand in front of his eyes confirms that his eyes must give off some sort of light. Huh, how did he not notice that before? That... that seems like a thing he should have noticed on day  _ one. _

Shaking his head, not really feeling up for another existential crisis, Tango quickly checks his shops for profits, before making his way around the shopping district, looking for the right shops to stock up his shulker boxes with. It’s quiet out. It doesn’t look like anybody’s around. And with the added bonus of no mobs being able to spawn on this island, it makes for a rather nice and quiet atmosphere. Tango appreciates the calm, walking around, going in and out of shops as he pleases, not bumping into anyone he didn’t plan on seeing.

Logs, totems, some extra enchanting books just in case. Potions, (do potions even affect him anymore? He guesses he’ll have to test that out sometime), ender pearls... Tango supposes that he’s going to need some redstone items as well. There’s only one shop he knows of that sells redstone bits, and that’s xB’s shop up on the nearby hill.

Tango leisurely makes his way over there. There’s no harm in restocking his own redstone box, while he’s at it. He hasn’t worked on  _ big _ redstone projects in a while, so it’s about time he finally gets back into the groove. And for that, he’ll need enough materials to work with. If he already ran out of rails earlier on, it’d be best if he gets stocked up on items right now.

He opens the door, that telltale  _ click  _ still there as he steps inside. He hasn’t seen a single hermit (save for Grian working in his barge, who Tango avoided by taking the long way around), but he can still feel eyes  _ burning _ in his back. Like they’re watching his every move. Somehow.

Tango tries to shake the strange feeling off, but still jumps a little when the door automatically closes behind him.

He turns his attention back to the task at hand. Back to the shop. The interior looks... nice, like this. There’s barely any functional windows in this building, so redstone lamps cast the barrels full of materials in a gentle light. The running minecarts above thundering over rails give the shop some lively background noise. Bathing it in a nice, almost homely atmosphere. It feels... pleasant. Worked in. Taken care of. 

Tango takes his redstone shulker out of the nearby ender chest and puts it down, checking its inventory and taking a mental note of what he’s missing or running low on. He then turns to the barrels, diamonds in hand, and starts digging through the stock.

He can already hear their voices, the other hermits saying things like ‘Oh, a robot buying redstone? What a joke!’, ‘That’s just strange.’, and maybe even things like ‘That’s just morbid, isn’t it? Can you imagine a  _ human  _ buying  _ organs? _ Ew.’

It  _ is  _ strange, Tango thinks. He  _ knows,  _ but- he can’t help it, okay? He didn’t  _ choose _ to become like this. He- he never even had a say in it! 

Tango understands why they did it. Why they rebuilt him. He really does! Tango wouldn’t be able to live without any of the other hermits either. Especially after such a sudden, and gruesome death, but... Still, it hurts. It hurts him, it hurts Impulse, and god knows who else it’s hurting as well. Was... was this really the answer they were looking for? Is this the solution to all their pain?

He’s seen the looks in their eyes. Seen the grief they’re faced with every time he’s around. His entire being is a constant reminder to them of what happened. Of what he is, and what, or  _ who,  _ they lost.

Tango leans against the barrel he’s standing at, a deep sigh escaping his body.

Every little thing he does, he knows it’s not real. It’s an imitation of life, it’s not  _ him.  _ A reminder that he’s not human. That he never will be. Not anymore.

He doesn’t need to eat, he doesn’t need to sleep. His breaths are artificial. His heartbeat is artificial. Even his tears and his mannerisms are artificial. They  _ have  _ to be. 

Tango groans in frustration, tears making their way out of his tear ducts which only serve to frustrate him more. They’re mocking him, mocking the way he’s feeling.  _ Is  _ he even feeling? It- It just doesn’t make  _ sense. _

Exasperated, Tango slams the lid of the barrel shut. He’s had it. He can’t even begin to think about getting organized like this. He digs up his redstone shulker and promptly exits the shop, shooting off into the sky and speeding back to his base. He hasn’t even bought a single thing there, the entire shop and sight of redstone just getting on his nerves, reminding him of everything that’s changed.

Tango wants so badly for everything to go back to how it was. He knows it can’t, but a part of him still wants it to. He has to distract himself somehow, bite into a new project, bury himself in something new to not think about it anymore. He doesn’t  _ want  _ to think about it anymore.

He gets out his somewhat-filled redstone box and gets to work. 

Just to do  _ something,  _ he starts building just to the side of his rocket factory, placing redstone items that his memory tells him will fit together, but nothing seems to be working. The pistons are shifting either too fast or too slow, the repeaters aren’t doing what they’re supposed to be doing, and the redstone dust keeps getting blown away in the wind, not carrying through strong enough of a signal for what Tango needs it to.

Even more frustrated than before, and annoyed instead of having calmed down, Tango kicks at his makeshift contraption, the sound of metal against metal seems to echo throughout his own body. Tango shivers. 

Out. He has to get out. Go somewhere else, vent his frustrations, yell, scream, just-  _ something.  _ He... he has to get back to Grumbot. Talking to him last time was nice. It helped.  _ He _ helped. Out of everybody on the server, Grumbot might be the only one who really understands him.

Tango practically shoots around the main blue building with his elytra, before he remembers that he promised he’d bring Grumbot more paper for his reserves. After a quick detour to his rocket factory, Tango races off towards Grumbot’s little platform again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll never guess who Tango is going to meet in the next chapter :PPPP
> 
> !! If I can keep it up new chapters will come out more often than they do now in the new year!   
> Here's to next year treating us all better, stay safe out there!! 'v'


	18. Brotherly bonding

Tango quickly shuts the latch when he puts the paper in place. Being inside of a redstone contraption like this is... weird, to say the least, when you’re made of redstone yourself. He quickly climbs out, and Grumbot whirrs and buzzes in appreciation as his systems detect the restocked paper.

_ THANK YOU,  _ the note that is printed out says, and Tango smiles before sitting down at his usual spot underneath Grumbot, next to the printer.

Doing that small task calmed his mind a bit already, which is surprising, but very welcome. 

_ YOU LOOK UPSET AGAIN,  _ Grumbot ‘says’. Tango nods, not even knowing if (or how) Grumbot can actually see him from up there. He never bothered to ask, and it feels rude to do it after going so long without asking.

“It’s... it’s a _ lot,” _ Tango says. “The way I am, the way I  _ feel...  _ Like so much has changed and nothing at all at the same time! I... It’s never going to go back to normal, is it?”

_ TIME ONLY MOVES ONE WAY. _

“Yeah, I know,” Tango sighs. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this, if I’m honest. It feels like I’m discovering something new every single day. Some small detail that’s different from before. Something that feels off, or wrong. I feel like I won’t be able to recognize myself eventually if this just keeps on happening.”

_ AFTER ALL, WE ARE PRODUCTS OF OUR ENVIRONMENT. _

Tango looks up at Grumbot. He looks even more rusty than before. If... If anyone’s a product of his environment, it’s  _ Grumbot, _ Tango thinks. He’s out here, exposed to the elements. To the rain, the wind, the sea... 

_ Redstone and water don’t mix.  _

It’ll only be a matter of time before Grumbot’s circuits give out under the pressure it’s being put on constantly, Tango realizes. He’s  _ stuck  _ here, he can’t move- Tango can barely feel touch, but Grumbot, he... he can’t even  _ feel  _ what is happening to him. He can barely  _ see,  _ let alone  _ do anything about it- _

Tango’s worry completely turned around, he asks, “Grumbot, you... Are you okay? Here? Out in the open?”

The paper that prints out as an answer only displays three dots:

‘...’

Tango decides to ask again. “Grumbot, you’re always here listening to me, but you’re here, as well. Always waiting, but... How are _ you _ doing? You... you must have feelings as well, right?”

_ I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO BE SCARED. _

_ BUT I THINK I AM. _

Grumbot goes still when someone in the distance flies off with the shot of a rocket. Once they’re out of view Grumbot comes back alive, and he prints out another answer.

_ I’M SCARED TO BREAK DOWN, TANGO. IT SCARES ME. _

Tango leans back, wishing he could properly give Grumbot a hug, words of comfort,  _ anything.  _ He realizes he’s been lucky with how much Zedaph did, or tried to do for him. To comfort him, to cheer him up, to be there whenever he looks like he needs it.

He doesn’t know what to say. What to  _ do.  _ He- Tango’s scared, too. For Grumbot. There’s nothing he can do, nowhere he can go. The big guy pretends to be out of commission, but he’s not. He’s here,  _ alive, _ and nobody knows about him.

Maybe, if they keep talking, he can distract him, at least. Talking is always good, Tango recalls Zedaph saying. ‘Just keep talking, it helps,’ he would always say whenever Tango was in a dump.

“I... think I understand,” Tango says. “Feelings are so unnecessarily complicated. Honestly, they make no sense! Who thought it’d be a good idea to implement those?!”

_ YOU DON’T JUST GIVE A ROBOT EMOTIONS LIKE THAT,  _ Grumbot responds.

“Right?!” Tango exclaims. Grumbot really  _ does  _ understand! He  _ understands _ him!

_ THEY PROGRAM ME TO ACCEPT DIAMONDS AND THEN COMPLAIN ABOUT IT. _

Tango nods heavily. “They give me Tango’s personality and memories and then give me weird looks when I act like him,” He says, recalling Impulse’s words from a couple days prior.

It’s silent for a few moments, Grumbot’s processors buzzing in the background. 

Then another piece of paper is printed out.

_ WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE? _

Tango looks up from the paper.

“...What do you mean?”

_ WHY WERE YOU BUILT? _

“Oh, ehrm... I suppose... I guess I’m supposed to fill a gap that the original Tango left? I’m replacing him, in some way. Helping the hermits with their loss.”

_ I SEE. _

“And you?” Tango asks.

It takes a moment before Grumbot’s answer lands on the floor.

_ I WAS BUILT TO HELP MUMBO BECOME MAYOR. IT DID NOT WORK. _

“I see,” Tango mirrors. “And what did you do once the election was over? When- when Scar became mayor instead?”

_ I COULD DO NOTHING. I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO, MY ENTIRE PURPOSE WAS GONE IN AN INSTANT. _

Tango sighs, thinking. He... he understands him, he thinks. Tango, as he is now, doesn’t feel like he can serve his ‘purpose’ very well, either. He’s just... drifting. Haunted by something he can’t even remember, only causing more chaos, wherever he goes.

“Well, what would you  _ like  _ to do, in that case? Now that you don’t have a purpose anymore?” Tango asks.

_ I CANNOT MOVE. I CANNOT DO ANYTHING, I AM STUCK HERE. _

“But if you  _ could,”  _ Tango presses on. “If you  _ could  _ move and you  _ could  _ do whatever you wanted, what would you do?”

Grumbot’s processors whirr and buzz. Tango wonders if he himself makes those same noises when he’s thinking. After a moment a few papers print out and Tango catches them before they can land on the ground.

_ I KNOW NOTHING OF THIS WORLD. I KNOW ONLY WHAT I CAN SEE, AND WHAT MY CREATORS TOLD ME. _

_ MY A.I. IS TOO BULKY, AND MY REDSTONE IS OLD AND WEATHERING. IF I STAY HERE I WILL EVENTUALLY RUST AND DIE. _

_ I DO NOT WANT TO DIE. _

_ I WISH TO LEAVE. TO EXPLORE. TO SEE THE REST OF THE WORLD. _

Tango holds his answers in his hands. That’s... oh god, that’s so... Tango realizes just how lucky he is that he has legs. That he can even  _ move.  _ Grumbot hasn’t got any of that. Grumbot doesn’t have anything for himself. He... he’s well and truly stuck. Even his  _ own body _ is leaving him behind.

_ I FAILED, AND THEN MY CREATORS RETIRED ME. IT IS A FITTING PUNISHMENT. _

_ I ASKED THEM ABOUT IT AND THEY JUST LAUGHED. I DIDN’T ASK ANY MORE AFTER THAT. _

Tango jumps up.

_ “No!” _ He says. “No! It’s  _ not _ fitting! That’s  _ not _ okay! Can’t... can’t they build you a new body? They  _ must  _ be able to, if they can do this,” Tango gestures towards himself. “For me.”

Grumbot whirrs and buzzes more loudly.

_ I HAVE ASKED BEFORE. MANY TIMES BEFORE. _

_ THEY ALWAYS DID EXACTLY AS I SAID, ANYTHING I SUGGESTED THEY DID WITHOUT HESITATION. BUT NOT THIS. THEY WON’T DO THIS FOR ME. _

_ I ASKED ONE TOO MANY TIMES AND THEN THEY RETIRED ME. _

Tango feels...  _ horrible,  _ for Grumbot. That- That’s messed up! How could they just abandon him like that? He- he’s  _ alive,  _ isn’t he? Tango shakes his head. What... what does life even mean anymore when he’s a robot himself? 

“Well, then,” Tango says firmly. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll talk to them. I’ll talk to anyone willing to help. We’re going to get you out into the world, Grum. I am going to try my damndest to help you.”

_ YOU WOULD DO THAT FOR ME? _

“Of  _ course _ I would,” Tango says. “It’s the least I can do.”

_ THANK YOU, TANGO. I WISH I COULD MOVE MY ARMS TO HUG YOU. _

“Naw, dude, that’s- It won’t be long, if it’s up to me.” Tango looks up at Grumbot- at  _ Grum.  _ Calling him a ‘robot’ seems... it seems wrong, somehow.

_ I DO NOT DESERVE SUCH A THING.  _

Those words hit Tango right in where he thinks his heart must be (or where he supposes a redstone block or something similar is powering him). He can’t put into words how it makes him feel, how  _ wrong  _ Grumbot is for thinking such a thing. How hurt he must be to even get to such a point.

He puts a hand on Grum, feeling the vibrations of redstone behind the steadily declining exterior. He deserves it. He deserves his own body. He deserves the world.

_ “Of course  _ you deserve it,” Tango says, and Grumbot’s next answer brings a smile to his face, warmth spreading across his chest:

_ :) _

They fall into a comfortable silence again, Tango himself practically buzzing with ideas and ways to start to help Grum. Then he remembers something he wanted to ask, but completely forgot in favor of listening to Grumbot speak. Or, reading his words, rather.

“Oh, Grum? I wanted to ask you about something- something robot related.”

_ YES? _

“I’ve been...  _ lagging?  _ Lately? I think that’s what it is, anyway? I get lost in thought and someone else always snaps me out of it, skipping over a certain amount of time. Is that a robot thing?”

_ PROCESSING INFORMATION CAN TAKE TIME. ESPECIALLY IF IT IS A LOT. _

Huh. Yeah, that checks out, Tango thinks.

“Thanks, Grumbot. I mean- Grum. Is it okay if I call you ‘Grum’?”

_ I LIKE THAT NAME,  _ comes his answer. 

That settles it, then, Tango thinks, smiling. He hopes that Grum can see how much he helped him. And how much Tango wants to pay him back for all he’s done, and is still doing for him.

Tango gets up. No time to waste! Hermits should start flying over and through the shopping district soon, and he doesn’t want to risk the two of them getting caught before they’ve even tried anything.

“I should go. Lots of brainstorming to do,” Tango says. “You can’t build a robot a body overnight, after all.”

_ THAT WOULD BE AWFULLY CONVENIENT. _

“That it would,” Tango smiles. “Alright, I’ll be seeing you, Grum!” 

Determined, inspired, and filled with more motivation than ever before, Tango flies back to his base. He thinks about it, about Grumb-  _ Grum _ eventually being able to, well, have his own body. To be able to walk around and explore the world and to just be allowed to  _ live. _

He’d have to subtly bring it up to the other hermits. And if that doesn’t work, he supposes he’ll just have to crack at it himself. It’s going to be difficult, he knows, but Tango’s never been one to shy away from a big project- a  _ challenge, _ anyway.

It’s not like he’s got anything better to do anyway, so what better way to spend his time and infinite energy on the one thing, the one person who wants to spend time with him? Give him a new purpose.  _ Free  _ of purpose, in a way. A new friend. A  _ brother,  _ even. 

Tango supposes that, yeah, they’re kinda like brothers, in a way. He... he cares about Grum. Grum cares about him, too. That’s more than can be said for almost any other hermit, Tango feels.

His own problems completely forgotten, Tango bounces up and down on his feet when he lands in his storage room. His mind is already racing with ideas and ways to test out redstone, to see what he’s capable of creating, and what he still remembers. To see if he’s got what it takes to create something a million times more intricate than a farm or a minigame. It’s all redstone, after all. He knows how it works, he knows how the stuff operates. How hard can it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Tango doing what I think he's doing?? :0
> 
> Happy new year everybody!!


	19. Cubby hole

After having tinkered with some smaller redstone -Tango was never really good at the small stuff. The bigger the better, usually. The principles are the same but it’s just so fiddly and  _ delicate. _ Not words Tango would use to describe himself, if he’s honest- he drops the stuff in favor of trying to get some other hermits on board.

‘How hard can it be?’ Tango chuckles at his naivete. Turns out it’s much,  _ much  _ harder than he thought. Of course.

Not to mention that this all would be  _ so much easier  _ if he could just. Open up his own body and look inside to see how it all works. A bit morbid, he’ll admit, but it should help him tremendously. Tango’s been wracking his brain over the smallest pieces of redstone for two days straight (which is the longest he’s worked on redstone without taking a break in a  _ long  _ time), but in the end he figures that he’ll need somebody else’s help with all of this. He doesn’t even know where to  _ start. _

At some point, in the middle of the night, he even spilled a bottle of water over some of the books he’s been trying to read. The visual image of the ink blurring like that... It stirred something in Tango. That even though he’s a robot now, he’s still isn’t indestructible. He could die again. He’s seen the pain in their eyes, heard it in their voices when the hermits talk about his death. He could cause that again, with something as simple as a spilled bottle of water. Tango shudders.

He checks the clock to make sure that it’s an acceptable time for the hermits to be awake, and opens up his communicator. Now, which hermits would be most likely to know about robotics? Tango supposes that, if needed, he could use the question of wanting to know more about his own body as a coverup for Grum. Besides, it could never hurt to actually know how he himself functions. 

Still, he’ll have to try and be as inconspicuous as possible, to see if anyone can give him any answers. Or a point on where to start, at least.

The first person that comes to mind is Doc. He helped him when he first found out, and even told him a bit about how he came to be, but- 

Doc’s AFK. Alright.

Tango decides to try and message him anyway. Maybe he’s sleeping. People go AFK when they sleep, right?

Tango opens the main chat by accident, but he doesn’t care. Iskall does it all the time.

_ <Tango> Hey Doc, you afk? Or just sleeping in? _

_ <Tango> I’ve got some redstone questions _

_ <BdoubleO100> he’s been stuck in his floaty AFK castle all day, Im afraid _

_ <Tango> aw crap, thanks though! _

_ <BdoubleO100> np! _

_ <Grian> ‘redstone’ questions, huh? _

Tango quickly exits the chat after that. He knows what he needs to know, and doesn’t really fancy replying to that, or Grian in general. He’ll... he’ll get over it eventually. Once Grum is safe. Once Grian and Grum make up, and actually  _ talk  _ to each other like normal people.

Tango thinks. Iskall, then? He’s bound to know at least  _ something  _ about robotics, right? Tango switches over to a private chat.

_ <Tango> Hey iskall! _

_ <Tango> Are you busy? _

_ <iskall85> HALLO!!!  _

_ <iskall85> actually, yeah _

_ <iskall85> i need about a GAZILLION leaves for my tree project _

_ <iskall85> whats up? _

_ <Tango> ah, I wanted to see if we could hang out for a bit? It’s okay _

_ <iskall85> aw i’m sorry dude _

_ <iskall85> next time for sure! _

_ <Tango> Good luck with the leaves! _

_ <iskall85> thanks!!! _

Tango sighs. Another option out the window. Who else helped with his body? No way in hell is he going to ask Mumbo or Grian, after he heard what they did to Grum.

Etho? He’s difficult to catch, though, Tango knows. Xisuma? Maybe. He  _ did  _ tell him to come to him if he had any questions or problems... 

But does Tango really want Xisuma to find out about his plans already? He supposes he’ll just have to play it safe.  _ Really  _ safe.

_ <Tango> Hey X! Are you busy? _

_ <Xisuma> as a bee! _

_ <Xisuma> well, not really, heh _

_ <Tango> Awesome, got some time to answer some of my questions? _

_ <Xisuma> sure, go ahead! _

_ <Tango> ...you don’t want to meet up somewhere? _

_ <Xisuma> ? _

_ <Xisuma> OH, I thought you meant via chat _

_ <Xisuma> Im knees deep in lava in the nether, cant really get back to the overworld easily _

_ <Tango> Oh, that’s fine. I don’t think i’m ready for the nether just yet though _

_ <Xisuma> I can message you when I get back? _

_ <Tango> that’s okay, thanks though! _

_ <Xisuma> no problem! good luck with whatever it is youre doing! _

_ <Tango> thank you :) _

Well. This is getting him nowhere. Nowhere at all.

Tango sighs in frustration. Why does it feel like everybody’s avoiding him? Tango almost pockets his communicator in defeat, ready to give up and continue to try and figure things out on his own when the little machine buzzes. He opens the PM. Oh?

_ <cubfan135> Hey Tango, I heard you were having redstone troubles? I might be able to help _

_ <Tango> oh! Well, not trouble per se, but I have some questions _

_ <cubfan135> I’m in my pyramid, you can drop by if you want _

_ <cubfan135> I’d appreciate the company as well :) _

_ <Tango> I’ll be right over, in that case!!! Seeya in a bit! _

_ <cubfan135> Seeya! _

This is nice. This is very, very nice. But of course! Cub is a redstone  _ genius!  _ Tango mentally slaps himself in the face. Cub must have helped with his, ahem,  _ construction,  _ too, right? Surely!

Tango practically jumps out of his window and flies on over to where he remembers Cub’s pyramid base to be.

_ Wow.  _ He forgot just how much Cub gets done in a short amount of time. This is... this is out of this world!

It’s ridiculous. The redstone, the building, the  _ decoration.  _ But that’s not what Tango’s here for today. Cub greets him and invites him inside, and they go to the back of the pyramid where Cub’s been working on his mini  _ (mini?!  _ Tango thinks. They're  _ massive _ ) games. Cub explains a little bit about the redstone behind them all, and the conversation quickly shifts over to robotics, and how it’s just like normal redstone, but smaller. 

Cub tells him about how they had to take apart Doc’s arm many many times to figure out just how it worked, much to the displeasure of Doc, and how Etho indeed helped with the construction of Tango’s eyes. Even Scar and Beef were involved in his creation, Tango learns.

The thing that took the most time, Cub says, was his face. Getting Tango’s body to be able to create all the facial expressions he could as a normal human being was, perhaps unsurprisingly, the most difficult for everybody.

“But, where would you even  _ begin  _ with something like that?” Tango asks, fascinated.

“The core mechanics?” Cub asks. Tango nods.

“Well, ideally you’d want to work on the bigger movements and functions first, and then slowly get more and more specific. You know that uncanny valley? We were stuck with that for a  _ long  _ time until we smoothed everything out. I’m glad we were able to, honestly. I’m glad,” Cub laughs.

Tango thinks about what that must have been like. A whole room full of not-quite-Tango faces...  _ Yikes. _

Cub raises an eyebrow at Tango. “So? You wanna tinker around with your own body? Is that it?”

“Eh, something like that, yeah,” Tango says. “I can’t keep coming back to Doc unlike  _ someone  _ we know.” Tango is laughing before he can even finish his sentence, prompting Cub to fall into laughter as well.

Cub leads Tango further around the pyramid, showing him the workings of his, frankly incredible, sorting system. Maybe... maybe Tango should invest into one of those one of these days.

“And you built this  _ all  _ while I was gone?” Tango asks with fascination.

Cub shakes his head. “Most of it, yeah, but I started the planning of many things before that. I... I’ve been taking it a bit more slowly ever since you got back.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Tango asks.

“I... I guess I felt guilty about what happened to you.” Cub falls silent. _ “I  _ helped you get those ravagers for your farm.  _ I  _ showed you how to catch them. In a way... it feels like  _ I  _ eventually led you to your death.”

Cub slows his pace, and Tango slows down as well to stay next him.

“I’ve been working non-stop to get you back, after that,” Cub chuckles. “Ask any hermit and they’ll tell you how absorbed in your redstone I was. I wouldn’t leave the room for days, trying to wrap my brain around all these new concepts. But hey! It paid off, in the end!” Cub turns around with a bright smile, though Tango can see the glossy look of his eyes. He... he  _ still  _ feels guilty, doesn’t he?

Tango tries to change the subject, hoping that it’d make Cub feel better. “And yet you  _ still  _ worked on your pyramid? And built all of  _ this-?”  _ He gestures around, the two of them now having entered a part of the pyramid that Tango hasn’t seen before.

Cub nods.

“You overworked yourself,” Tango concludes. Cub stops in his tracks.

“I  _ didn’t,  _ I-”

“Naw, Cubby, come here,” Tango opens his arms, and Cub, thankfully, lets himself be embraced in a hug. Tango holds him tightly. It feels a bit awkward, but Cub deserves it. He doesn’t deserve all the blame he put on himself, working overtime as if it’s his duty. He doesn’t need to do anything. He just has to  _ be,  _ and that’s enough. Tango tries to find the right words to actually  _ tell  _ Cub, but can’t come up with any.

“I’m sorry you had to fix your iron farm,” Cub says, carefully resting his chin on Tango’s head. “I- I almost didn’t want to give you the location of the pillager outpost, because of that but...”

“But I’m okay, am I not?” Tango says.

“I guess so, yeah.” Cub squeezes him tightly and then pulls away. “That... that was my fault too. I killed those ravagers. Some stupid way of getting revenge or something. But by doing that I destroyed everything and put you in even  _ more _ danger, having to go hunting for new ravagers. I- I’m sorry for all the damage I caused.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Tango says. “I’d want to do the same if I had that happen to one of you, too.”

“I’m really sor-”

“-No. I don’t want to hear it,” Tango says. “It’s all in the past. Everybody’s okay now, and I’m slowly getting used to life like this, it’s  _ fine,  _ I promise.”

Cub smiles softly. “Only if you say so.”

Tango smiles back. “Of course, Cub. Now, I’d love to see more of your amazing base, I  _ really do,  _ but I’ve got to get back to redstone-ification. Hearing you talk about everything has really inspired me!”

“Right! That’s good to hear! Good luck with that, my dude. If you have any questions you know where to send em.”

Tango nods, waves, and after Cub shows him where the exit is, he shoots off into the air with a few rockets. He almost loses his way inside the main hall of the pyramid again, but after a couple laps around it he finds the main entrance and swoops through it, flying back to his base.

Flying home peacefully with his elytra, Tango didn’t expect to get caught up in a  _ thunderstorm,  _ of all things. The sky breaks open into thunder and distant lightning, and starts pouring rain out of seemingly nowhere. Tango shoots another rocket to get home faster. Rain and water is one thing, but what would happen if he got hit by  _ lightning? _

The rolling thunder sounds strangely ominous. Tango doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t like the sound of it at all. Luckily his base is already coming into view in the distance, and Tango shoots another rocket.

He practically dives in through his window-entrance, panting as the air gets knocked out of his lungs upon impact. Tango frantically dries himself off with his awfully unused blanket, and can’t help but jump at the sound of lightning crashing in the near distance.

Tango feels warm. The water didn’t get into his systems, did it? Oh god, what if something’s wrong? He’d have to contact Doc again, they’d have to open his body up, work on him while he’s still-

When did it get so dark outside? Wasn’t it the middle of the day just a moment ago? Did he space out again? Did he lag? Glitch? _ Malfunction-? _

_ [CALM DOWN, I CAN FEEL YOUR PANIC OVER HERE.] _

That- That’s Grumbot, that’s Grum talking to him. He- Grum can  _ feel  _ it? Tango takes a deep breath. He really should figure out how to message him back like that.  _ If  _ he can message him back.

He takes another deep breath. It seems to be working. Did Xisuma program that in? That’s pretty clever.

Another crash of lightning sends him metaphorically shaking again, but Tango reminds himself that he’s safe. He’s inside, nothing can hurt him. He’s safe here.

Thunder rolls and it sounds closer than before. Definitely closer.

Oh, who is he lying to? Tango is not okay. He needs someone. Grum? He- oh god, he’s out there, in the rain... Zedaph? Tango wouldn’t ask him to fly through weather like this in his darkest dreams. Who else is there? Who else lives close by? There’s one all too obvious answer, and he shakes the thought away as soon as it had come. Seeing  _ him _ would only make things worse, Tango’s sure.

False? She lives close by, right? They’re neighbors! Tango knows that False isn’t afraid of a storm like this. She isn’t afraid of anything.

Heart beating ever steady and his mind racing, Tango grabs his communicator, scrolling right past any unread messages, down to False’s name.

_ <Tango> false _

_ <Tango> can you come over? i’m... im scared _

_ <falsesymmetry> what’s wrong? _

_ <Tango> this storm scare s me _

_ <falsesymmetry> Be there in a sec, hang on! _

Relieved, Tango lets himself drop back down onto his bed, wet blanket dropped to the ground.

It feels like only a second has passed before Tango picks up on the sound of rockets being fired through the howling winds and rain. False swoops in through his window and gracefully lands in between the mess of redstone that Tango forgot to clean up earlier. Crap. He hopes she won’t suspect anything-

False spots him almost immediately and walks over, shaking some of the rain off of herself. She plops down next to him on his bed and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey... Tango,” She says. “So, storm, eh? I didn’t know you were scared of storms.” 

“I honestly didn’t know either, but here we are.” Tango shakes his head. False’s hand feels warm, even through his clothes.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” False says, gesturing towards the mess in the room.

Tango chuckles. “Yeah, I- I really should get into cleaning and organizing my stuff. I’m not great at that, I’ve noticed.”

“I heard Zed and Stress helped you clean your base on the first day? Whatever happened to that?”

“Hahah, yeah. Funny, that.”

False smiles, patting Tango’s shoulder.

The wind seems to pick up, blowing straight into the room, taking some redstone dust and loose components with it, sending them flying. Remind him why he doesn’t have a door, again? False must have noticed his reaction, because she gets up and blocks the entrance (and the back entrance, as well) with some blocks of wood. 

“It’s not much, but it’ll hold the wind and the rain out, at least,” She turns back to Tango. “I’m not leaving until that storm’s over, don’t you worry.”

It’s like she can read his mind. Tango already feels more comfortable about facing the night ahead.

“It’s a sleepover,” He grins, picking up on False’s contagious mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _False time!!!!_
> 
> Also!! I've been working on something, and I can't wait to share it with you all!! It should be ready by the next chapter c:


	20. Sleep over

False yawns and Tango unconsciously mimics her, yawning but not actually taking any air in. A look at the clock tells him that it’s already way past False’s normal bedtime. He doesn’t actually know that for sure, but he can guess, judging by the amount of yawns she’s given in the past few minutes, alone.

“You should at least plop down a bed, please, I know you need sleep,” Tango says.

“What, and you don’t?” False retaliates with a tired smirk.

“If I needed to I would have fallen asleep a long time ago,” Tango says, his words coming out perhaps a bit more somber than he intended to.

“Oh, right. Robot, and all.” Tango flinches at that word. He knows she’s right, but... 

“Sorry, I forgot about it, is all,” False says. “You just seem so... so _normal._ Is that weird to say?”

Tango shakes his head, already having gotten up to dig through his storage chests for a spare bed.

“I don’t think so,” He says. “You can get attached to anything once you give it a name.”

“True, true,” False laughs, followed by another yawn. “Which is probably why we couldn’t let you go in the first place.”

Tango walks back, having miraculously found a bed in the mess. He puts it down for False on the other side of the hallway, a few blocks away from his. He doesn’t know how comfortable False is sleeping in a shared space like this, so it’s best to play it safe, Tango reasons. 

False doesn’t seem to mind. She doesn’t mention anything at least, and lets herself fall down onto the mattress. Tango sits back on his own bed again, leaning back against the wall, facing the side of the room where the iron from his iron farm is pumped through and shot down into bulk storage.

“Impulse is worried about you, you know?” False mumbles, turning around to lie on her back. “He’s been messaging us all, asking if we’ve seen you around. I think he wants to talk to you.”

“Yeah...” Tango says, thinking. Impulse... He- he found him. He _saw_ him. Saw his _corpse._ He must have hurt him, it must have _hurt_ to see him like that. God, even in death Tango screws up with his dumb actions. He should have been more careful. Stupid, stupid! What a dumb, stupid, _deadly_ mistake-!

“What are you thinking about? I can practically see the gears turning in your head.”

“Har har,” Tango says, being pulled from his thoughts again. Thankfully.

“I... that is where I died, no?” He looks at the piping from his iron farm, soft red light casting shadows on the wall. Most of the piping looks brand new. That’s probably for the best, Tango thinks.

False shifts in bed and looks over.

“Yeah, I think so. It wasn’t pretty.”

“I figured,” Tango says.

“You really don’t remember?” False asks.

“If I did I wouldn’t have asked.”

“That’s fair.”

“...well?”

“‘Well’ what? I wasn’t there, was I?” False says.

“How would _I_ know that?” Tango says in return.

“You don’t remember anything from then, do you?” False moves to sit up again, facing Tango.

“No.”

“I’m glad,” She says, voice a bit softer than before. “It must have hurt.”

“It must have, yeah.”

“...Hey, looks like the rain has subsided-” Tango keeps quiet and listens. Huh, the thunder and rain must have died down or drifted over at some point. Wait. _Wait,_ False can’t leave yet-!

“Don’t go!” He says, perhaps a bit too loudly. Tango coughs awkwardly. “Please stay? I don’t... I don’t want to be alone.”

“I...” False sighs and smiles. “I guess you really do feel. Emotions, I mean.”

“Of course I do! What do you take me for?!”

“A robot?” She says, questioningly, but with a half-smile.

“Well I’m not heartless,” Tango frowns.

“No, no you're not."  
  


False falls asleep not long after that, and though Tango doesn’t have anyone to talk to, just the simple fact of her being here makes him feel at ease. Tango lays down, pretends to rest and listens to the last few drops of rain pattering down onto the roof, though after a while that becomes too boring of a task for him.

He gets up, trying to make as little noise as possible, and sneaks off into one of the side rooms. The one with access to his underground super smelter. Tango grabs some of the redstone bits and components that have been thrown across the room by the wind earlier, and with his eyes casting a gentle glow wherever he goes, he is able not to trip over anything on his way there.

He goes back to work on his designs for Grum's body, thinking back to everything Cub told and taught him in his short visit. 

Quite some time must have passed when False walks into the room, still wiping the sleep from her eyes as she sees Tango tinker with all kinds of materials.

“What’s that? Building a friend?” She asks, and Tango laughs at that, hoping that it didn’t come across as forced as it sounded.

“Um, yeah- Something like that, yeah...” Tango nods.

Wait, _how long_ has he been working on just this part alone, again?

Not convinced he’s safe quite yet, Tango blurts out, “I thought- what with me being made of redstone now and all, that I’d try and understand the smaller bits, y’know? Understand myself better, in a way. Or at least understand how my body works now. There’s no use if I can’t fix myself, is there?”

False brushes a hand through her hair, stifling a yawn.

“Yeah, that makes sense, I guess,” She says. “Oh! Then you’ll need elytra wings, no?” She shakes her head and suddenly looks a lot more awake.

“...What?”

“That’s part of what your skin is made of. The material underneath it, I'm pretty sure. It’s soft and malleable when unenchanted, and durable once enchanted enough. You should ask Stress or Doc about it, they worked on it together.”

Huh. Interesting, Tango thinks. False is already talking about how Iskall and Scar are going End raiding together pretty soon. They asked if she would join them but she can’t- maybe he’d like to join them, though? He’s pretty good at that, isn’t he?

Tango lets the thought swim around his head for a moment. That... That’s not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all. 

_[ARE YOU OKAY NOW? YOU SEEM BETTER.]_ Grum’s words show for a short moment.

_Yeah, I am,_ Tango thinks, the image of his own words flashing clearly before his mind’s eye.

He gets another message from Grum, _[THAT’S GOOD.]_

Tango stops in the middle of a thought. Did... did he just send Grum a message _back?_ Did he figure out how to message him-?

“Tango?” False’s voice interrupts his little revelation.

“Uh, yeah! That sounds good! End busting, yeah!” Tango shakes his head, the _[ :) ]_ from Grum only obscuring his vision for a couple of seconds.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” False says, stretching her arms above her head before equipping her elytra. “Don’t do something stupid, now.”

“I won’t, False.” Tango rolls his eyes. “Thank you, for... for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” False is already breaking down the wooden barriers she put in place last night. Sunlight streams in through the window. “That’s what neighbors are for. Good luck with the End raid!” And with that, she’s off.

Tango sits in silence for a good few moments. Not only did False help him figure out something he might need for Grum’s body, but he also _figured out how to talk to Grum!_

He tries it out again, hoping that it wasn’t just a one-time thing.

_Can you hear me?_ He sends.

_[I CAN. HI TANGO!]_ He gets back.

_This is amazing!_ Tango sends, barely able to contain his excitement.

_[:D]_

Tango should probably tell him about the work he’s doing for his body. His body... _elytra!_ The End busting! He needs to message Iskall! Quickly Tango locates his communicator.

_ <Tango> Hey iskall! I heard you were conquering the end soon? _

_ <iskall85> HALLO! _

_ <iskall85> oh yes!!! Scar needs shulkers to restock his shop, and I need shulkers for all my leaves. Wanna tag along? _

_ <Tango> it’s like you read my mind, good sir _

_ <Tango> I need more elytras, so if you’ll have me I’d love to go endbusting again! _

_ <iskall85> of course!!!! glad to have ya! _

_ <iskall85> meet us in front of Town Hall tomorrow morning? _

_ <Tango> I’ll be there _

_ <iskall85> AWESOME :P _

That... that went a lot smoother than Tango expected. Tango supposes he’ll have to get ready for a day-long trip into the End, now.

Excited, Tango updates Grum about the situation.

_Hey Grum?_

_[YES?]_

_We’re gonna get you a new body,_ Tango smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... as a thank-you to everybody sticking with me as I write this, for all the support, the screaming, the lovely comments and the silent readers, too:
> 
> I made an [animatic!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nE_z-G9M8WI&feature=youtu.be) I rarely ever do anything with art like this so I'm super nervous but also hyped to share this! Let me know what you think of it? c:
> 
> To go along with that, I also would like to share the playlist that I made for this fic!  
> [Link to Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1NDBxrfVDhFqR4KdiZXnw8?si=-nrFXI8ZTqaAeLrhzZA7pw)  
> [Link to YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzORHvUQJV_p_bi4TrjypFtWxOFb75R9K)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I really do hope you enjoy everything that's happened so far, I can't wait to get into all that's still to come! :D!!


	21. In the end

Tango stands in front of the town hall, feeling horribly underprepared for a proper End raid, waiting for Iskall and Scar to show up. 

He briefly contemplated bringing potions, but there was something about the idea of pouring liquid straight into his mechanics that just didn’t sit right with him. It strikes him as a bit of a bad idea, is all. He has his bow, sure, but Tango completely forgot to craft a shield. It’s... it’s been a while since he last went Endbusting. So, here he is, fidgeting with the sleeves of his jacket, looking around at different objects to see how the light from his eyes affects the way they look, to pass his time waiting.

Luckily, when Iskall and Scar do show up, they do so looking more than well prepared. They’re wearing sets of enchanted diamond (and something else? Tango’s never seen this material before. Or is that another thing he forgot about? He doesn’t dare to ask) armor.

“Hey Tango! Ready to go?” Iskall greets him.

Tango laughs nervously. “I, uh... I’ve got an elytra, and that’s about it,” He says.

“You’re kidding! You don’t even have armor?!” Scar adjusts his helmet, looking slightly nervous too, despite how prepared he must be.

Tango shrugs. “To be fair, I haven’t _needed_ it since I... yeah. I haven’t come across a spare set in my storage, either.” Tango doesn’t mention how he simply _forgot_ about it. _Armor!_ How could he forget about such a trivial thing?! 

“It’s probably fine,” Iskall says. “Plus, I’m sure we’ll find spare pieces in the End Cities, should you need it.”

Tango nods, already feeling a little bit more confident. He reasons with himself that carrying more weight would only be a detriment to his rocket supply. Iskall knows what he’s talking about. He’s the Endbusting _master. And_ he helped with building Tango’s body, so he would know if it was dangerous, right? Right!

Still, he hands Tango a wooden shield. “Just in case, though. Can’t have you floating off if we can help it.” 

Tango accepts it, giving Iskall a nod in appreciation.

“Alright, are we ready?” Scar asks, looking a bit more confident as well. Tango knows Scar’s track record of flying into buildings and trees, something that could be fatal when the ground beneath you consists of nothing but _void._ That reminds him-

“Oh! Before we go, I brought rockets for everybody! You can never have enough, right?” Tango takes out two shulker boxes full of the stuff, dividing the stacks between the three of them. 

“Aw, sweet! We can fly for _days_ with these!” Iskall looks excited, and Scar a little bit more pale, if thankful for the security.

Then, once they have everything in order, they enter the nearby Nether portal, and fly along the newly dug tunnels toward the stronghold portal. This is the first time Tango has entered the new Nether, and he takes note of how little of the change in temperature he actually feels. Maybe... maybe that’s for the best. He _can_ feel his heart beating faster, which is unusual. Maybe it’s pumping the cooling fluid around his body faster in order to keep him cool? It’s a little strange how he can’t physically feel much of the heat himself, but his body apparently can still register it. Huh. The more you know.

They make it to the stronghold portal in no time, and Tango is relieved when they step out into the (albeit underground) Overworld air again. Scar, Iskall, and Tango all look at each other, before jumping into the End Portal one by one. Tango hesitates for a moment, thinking about how portal teleportation could affect his systems, but seeing as he just went through the Nether portals just fine, he decides that it’s probably okay, and jumps in.

Tango materializes on the obsidian platform, glad to confirm the fact that he doesn’t need much mental adjusting to the feeling of appearing in a different dimension. Scar rubs his hands together for warmth and Iskall is already flying up into the air, raring to go. Tango quirks his eyebrows at Scar, and then they too shoot up into the air, circling until they can meet on either side of Iskall.

“Let’s go east, first,” Iskall says, quickly checking his communicator to confirm the right directions.

Tango remembers how Etho told him that he could display his coordinates with his redstone eye. That sure would’ve come in handy now, he thinks. Tango doesn’t like the look of Iskall (or any of them, really) risking losing their communicator by accidentally dropping it into the void. Or worse: not paying enough attention to their surroundings and flying into a particularly tall chorus plant. 

Tango looks back at Scar. He seems to be doing fine. With the three of them flying together, they’ll have more than enough eyes to watch out for each other. With the three of them together, they’ll be able to traverse the End safely.

They fly for what feels like thousands of blocks in the eerily silent space-like environment. Scar strikes up a conversation every now and again, but talking while flying is not easy on the ears _or_ throat, so those don’t last particularly long. Iskall mostly focuses on staying at the right height (Tango wonders if Iskall can display his coordinates with his eye, too. Or if he could message him like he can Grum), while Tango constantly keeps an eye on the durability of his elytra, making sure to keep enough rockets at hand.

Eventually, a bit to his right, Tango spots the silhouette of an End city as it slowly comes into view. He waits for Iskall’s word and when he gets the OK he shoots off toward it, bow in one hand and arrows in the other.

He lands semi-gracefully on top of one of the buildings and scans the area for shulkers. Iskall and Scar zoom past, landing on the nearby ship and the top of a tower respectively.

Tango hears the telltale gargling of shulkers, and as soon as he spots one peeking from the safety of its shells, he takes aim and shoots. He’s gotten quite good at the bow, even if he does say so himself. His arrow hits, and after another two the shulker disappears into a puff of smoke and particles, leaving behind its only protection. First blood. Nice.

Scar and Iskall had only briefly discussed their strategy for tackling End cities, but the three of them get to work, diligently killing shulkers wherever they see them, combing through all the branching towers that the city holds, and looting all the chests of their diamonds and other possibly useful items.

Iskall takes care of the floating ship, and after a little while Tango meets up with Scar on the bridge outside, at which point they tackle the tower before them together.

Tango hasn’t had to use his shield even once, he realizes. The shulkers don’t appear to notice him until he hits them, at which point they start to attack. But by then Tango has already shot more arrows, and they’re not a threat anymore.

And Tango can’t help but take the opportunity when he sees Scar with his back turned, sneaking up behind him, and jumpscaring him by making shulker noises right in his ear.

“Tango?! Jeez- I thought you were-! Oh man...” Tango laughs, feeling like he shouldn’t be able to catch his breath, before Iskall swoops down from a different tower to meet up with them. Scar breathes in deeply, trying to hide his flustered look.

“All done?” Iskall asks, looking between them as if to figure what the hell is going on.

Scar’s panicked breaths dissolve into a giggly laughter of his own, and soon Iskall’s infectious laugh joins them as well. With the entire city now silenced, nothing but their laughter can be heard as it echoes between the buildings. 

When they finally manage to catch their breaths, Iskall deploys an ender chest, allowing them all to store their excess items. Tango shoves some of his old shulker boxes aside to make room for the shulker shells and diamonds he collected, and when all their stuff is safely inside, Iskall picks the chest up again.

“Split everything at the end?” Iskall asks, and Scar nods.

“But we’re already here?” Tango laughs as Iskall punches his shoulder slightly.

“You know what I mean,” He smiles, and before Tango knows it he’s up in the air again, communicator out to figure out their current location again.

Pleased with how smoothly the first city went, Tango feels confident about the next one. Even with little words spoken between them, they were able to coordinate themselves and conquer the city with ease. It’s a good thing the endermen don’t seem to care about them in the slightest.

“Dude, that went so well, I have to say!” Scar says, smiling. “I’m really feeling like I’m getting better at this kind of stuff!”

“Oh please, you asked me to come with you to protect you from yourself,” Iskall laughs, and Scar scoffs.

“Well, I didn’t want to go alone, and I didn’t want _you_ to go alone, either.”

“Nawww,” Iskall coos. “I really appreciate it, Sir Mayor.”

Tango wonders if he should ask Iskall about robotics here, or if he should wait until he can catch him on his own, without Scar nearby. Does Iskall know what he’s up to, with Tango only being in it for the elytras? Tango contemplates his situation a little longer, but they soon arrive at the next End city, and all of Tango’s questions are promptly forgotten.

The raid goes much like the first one. Tango dives in headfirst, Iskall goes for the ship, and Scar tackles the other side of the city. This one is a bit bigger than the last, so they spend more time and resources here, but that also means that there’s more rewards waiting for them.

One of which is in the form of a loot chest Tango finds at the top of a tower. Nothing too shabby; some gold, a couple of diamonds, beetroot seeds, and a diamond chestplate. Tango takes the diamonds and the gold, and inspects up the chestplate. He holds it up for a moment, contemplating whether he really needs it. He’s been doing well so far, Tango thinks. What with the shulkers not seeing him, he really does have an advantage in the whole Endbusting.

Tango puts the piece of armor back down and closes the chest. He’s fine. He’ll be _fine._ Tango leaves the tower from one of the windows and glides down to a different part of the city, one which they haven’t yet conquered, it seems. Tango pulls out his bow and starts slowly making his way up to the top of the tower all over again.

The rest of the busting goes as smoothly as it possibly could have gone. Tango prides himself in the fact that they really only had one proper scare. Scar had tripped over his own feet and fell down one of the towers- screaming before Tango managed to catch him. Tango is sure that Scar would have used his elytra to save himself, but Scar still thanked him profusely when he was put on solid ground again.

And so they continue. Finding cities, slaughtering all of the shulkers, collecting their bits and other loot, and onto the next city they go. Tango notes how much more confident Scar looks with each successful looting, all decked out with his enchanted gear and weapons. They haven’t had any problems with endermen either, which is a rather nice change of pace.

Tango doesn’t know if he’s ever had such a nice time Endbusting. He doesn’t know if it’s because they’re with three instead of two, or even one, but he’s glad. He’s glad Iskall and Scar wanted him to tag along. It’s nice to take his mind off of things when flying through the vast expansive nothingness that is the End. Terrifying as it is, he feels calm when flying through it. There’s something powerful about being so close to the void, being carried by strong elytra wings.

Now, with their supply of rockets slowly dwindling, they’re flying back to the main island and portal in peace. Smiles on their faces with the knowledge of an End raid well done. 

Tango doesn’t know how or when the conversation Scar and Iskall were having shifted to robots, but when he notices he tries to listen in.

“Naww, I loved Grimbot!” Scar exclaims.

“Grum-” Iskall replies.

“-Sorry, Gurmbot, yes,” Scar says. “I mean, sure, he was directly rooting for one of my rivals, but he was a good guy! I wish I could have done more for him, being mayor and all.”

“...Can’t he be fixed?” Tango decides to ask, playing innocent.

Iskall picks up on the topic, just as Tango had hoped, and he slows down his flying to fall back in speed with the others.

“I tried to, actually,” He says. “But tinkering with redstone as delicate and yet somehow also as clunky as that just doesn’t work. You’d have to rebuild him from scratch.”

“But then he won’t be the same, right?” Tango asks.

“What do you mean? It’s just a robot-”

Tango gives Iskall a look, and realization strikes his face.

“Oh! Oh I didn’t- I didn’t mean... I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” Tango says. Honestly, it’s kind of amusing how easily the hermits seem to forget what he is. 

He won’t press it further, though. He can figure it out on his own. Maybe Grum even knows more about his own construction than he thinks he does! They’ll figure it out, one way or another. No matter how long it takes, Tango _will_ build him his body.

The main island comes into view not long after that, and Tango shoots ahead to dive through the portal first. He finds himself back on the spawn island, where Iskall and Scar poof into existence shortly after him. 

They set up a few chests and divide their loot between the three of them. Tango gains ownership of a couple pairs of brand new, unenchanted elytras, and Scar and Iskall divide all of the collected shulker shells and tools.

It’s a good haul, they all agree. A very good trip, indeed.

“Are you sure you don’t want any of the shulkers?” Iskall asks, and Tango shakes his head.

“Honestly, with these,” He holds up the elytras. “I’ve got more than enough to work with. Thank you for letting me keep them all!”

“Thank _you_ for going with us! I don’t think I’ve ever had as clean of an Endbusting session as we did now! It’s been a blast!”

“It _was_ a blast,” Tango agrees, stuffing the spare elytras into his inventory.

“Oh man,” Scar sighs. “After my shop is restocked I’m going to crash into my bed and sleep for _days.”_

Iskall nods. “I wish I could. I have to grind for more leaves, though. No sleep for me anytime soon,” He groans, but smiling nonetheless. 

_Right._ They were in the End for what must have been _days._ Tango didn’t notice how long it’s been because he hasn’t slept in what, a month? Give or take? Something like that, anyway. Time is wonky in the two other dimensions, but normal human beings need sleep every now and again. It’s... it’s weird how quickly Tango got used to it. Or has he been avoiding thinking about it at all?

“Well, good luck with that, guys,” Tango says. “I gotta get back to my redstone. Thanks for letting me keep all the elytra!” He waves them goodbye and shoots off into the sky.

He can’t wait to get back to his base to tinker, to test out all kinds of new redstone now that he’s got these wings- a new material to play with.

Tango shwoops over the shopping district and spots two figures in the distance, over on Grum’s platform. _Huh?_

He circles the sky above and when he looks closer he sees that it’s Grian and Mumbo. They’re- they’re marking the area off with black and yellow tape. 

The same type that they used around Jrumbot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Uh oh.


	22. CAUTION: Computer Controlled, Do Not Interfere

Concerned, Tango tries to remember how he messaged Grum last time.

_Hey, are you okay?_ He asks, and the reply he gets is curt. Cautious.

_[THEY’RE HERE.]_

Once he glides closer he sees why; Grum is playing dead. Tango lands with a thud on the white platform, catching the attention of both Mumbo and Grian. They turn around and Tango walks up to them, forcing as natural a curious smile he can.

“Hey guys!” He says. “What are you up to, over here?”

“Hi Tango,” Grian greets him. “Nothing special, really. We’re getting rid of-” Mumbo jabs Grian in the ribs with his elbow.

Grian rolls his eyes and then turns his attention back to Tango. “Right, yeah, we’re _moving_ Grumbot. That’s it.”

“Oh?” Tango is thankful his voice box is so steady. “Where to?”

“Mumbo’s base! This big guy is a sight for sore eyes, blocking the sunset every night, I’ll tell ya that.” Grian laughs. Tango chuckles, though it doesn’t feel right to do so at all.

“What’s all the tape for, then?” He questions.

“Oh, that’s just for everybody’s safety,” Mumbo says. “We can’t have anybody getting electrocuted by a defective robot, now, can we?”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to have that on my hands,” Grian adds.

Mumbo nods. “He’s been out of commission for so long now, and the VR plug-in we developed has stopped working somehow, _plus_ Xisuma and Doc expressed concern for our fellow hermits accidentally getting caught up in the exposed redstone, so we thought it time to deconstruct him.”

Grian nods, crossing his arms.

_[I’M AFRAID.]_

“But I...” Mumbo turns around, looking up at Grum’s face. “I kinda feel for him, y’know? So I want to honor him and all he’s done for me, for _us,_ and rebuild him back at my base.”

Tango smiles. “Aw, that’s awfully swee-”

“Just the outside, though. No complicated redstone and A.I. this time.”

Tango’s heart stops. It _feels_ like it does, anyway. _No redstone?_ They’re- they’re going to kill him. They’re going to _kill_ Grum!

Tango tries his best to keep his voice level, though he’s found it difficult to get it to crack in the first place lately.

“Wh- why though? Is it too much of a hassle? I could... I could help with that, if that’s the problem,” He offers.

“Really, it’s okay, dude,” Grian says. “It’s for the best. I think we’d all be off better without this silly, clunky A.I. bugging all of us. I’m kinda glad you never got to meet him properly, if I’m honest.”

Right. They don’t know that he... Tango wants to tell them _so badly,_ but Grum is clearly still playing dead. He doesn’t want to get caught. Tango can’t betray him like that. He can’t reveal him.

“It’s a shame, but it’ll be better than leaving him out here in the open,” Grian says. Mumbo nods firmly, and Tango finds himself nodding as well. This is wrong. This is _bad._ So, so very _bad._

“When are you taking him apart?” Tango asks. He- he can’t focus on anything. It’s like he’s stuck in tunnel vision, the only thing at the end, in his focus, being Grum. Grum’s decaying body. The future of him being dismantled and displayed as a... as a _corpse._ An empty husk. He’ll be _dead_ by... 

“Next week,” Mumbo says. “Something about Scar and his mayoral duty of clearing the land for taking apart, or something.”

A _week._

Oh god.

“And, and the other buildings? What even are those? Are those going as well?” Tango asks. He takes note of Mumbo stepping in and blocking his view from the building to his right. 

He has a hand behind his head, trying to act nonchalant, but Tango knows there’s something up with the way he’s acting. Mumbo was never good at hiding things like that.

“The office and the, er... film studio?” Mumbo says. “Yeah, yeah. I suppose those’ll stay for a bit longer. They’re not as dangerous or as in the way of things as Grumbot is.” He smiles.

“Dangerous? In the way?!?” Tango almost yells, not being able to hold himself back. “Cut him some slack! He did a lot for you, didn’t he?” 

Grian has quietly gone back to marking the area off with caution tape, setting up fences on each corner to hold the tape in place. As if he didn’t hear Tango’s little outburst at all.

“You didn’t get attached to him, did you?” Grian laughs once he comes back around, tying the tape into a neat bow. 

Tango shakes his head. A pained grimace makes its way onto his face that he hopes comes off as sheepish. “Hey, just because I’m a robot doesn’t mean I start forming emotional bonds with all of your sorting systems and super smelters.” He laughs softly. Those words feel wrong coming out of his mouth.

_I’m sorry, Grum,_ he thinks, and hopes that Grum understands. He has to keep them in the dark. _Especially_ after what he just yelled at them.

“Right! I didn’t mean that as an insult. Sorry, dude,” Grian says.

“It’s okay,” Tango waves it off, hesitating on whether he should leave now, or else risk this whole encounter becoming awkward and uncomfortable. Risk his plan being uncovered.

Then a thought pops into his head. Now that he’s with them anyway he _has_ to ask. “Wait, you didn’t do the same to Jrumbot, did you?”

“What?” Grian looks up.

“I haven’t been in and around the shopping district much, lately, but I’ve seen you marking the area off much like over here. Did you take him apart, too?” Tango asks.

Mumbo and Grian share a look, before Grian answers: “Well, we _did_ take him apart, but we didn’t plan on rebuilding him near Mumbo’s base, why?”

A pang of hurt shoots through Tango’s system, he tries to stay upright, he tries not to show it.

“Oh. That’s... that’s good to know.”

Tango can feel them staring at him. But he can’t speak up. He doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing he can say to make himself less suspicious. Nothing he can say to convey his feelings towards them. About what they did to Grum, and to Jrumbot, too. Tango stands there, frozen, _bolted_ to the ground.

“Well, then... we really must be going, I’m afraid,” Grian says. “It’s getting late and Mumbo and I have quite some preparation ahead of us. Don’t we, Mumbo?”

“Wh- yeah, right. Of course!” Mumbo nods.

“Careful of that bot, alright? Don’t get too close.” Grian nods at Tango and shoots off into the sky. Mumbo takes off a second after Grian, looking back at Tango for a moment. Tango stares back at him as he flies away in a flurry of rocket particles. 

That was... strange.

Once he’s certain they’re gone Tango collapses onto the ground. He remains there for what must at least be a couple of minutes, until Grumbot whirrs and buzzes, and another message appears before his eyes.

_[TANGO?]_

Tango looks up at Grum. He looks even worse off than last time he visited. _Crap._ He- he _really_ has to step his game up now. Tango’s been working so hard, but now It feels as if he’s made no progress, gotten nowhere at all in the past few days. He really has to pick up the slack and _get to work._

“A week...” He whispers, not quite believing it. “A _week._ That’s ridiculous! You can’t build a new body from scratch within a _week!”_

Tango gets up, stumbles closer to Grum’s body, and then collapses again. The _clang_ of metal hitting metal not quite registering in his mind. 

The paper that floats into his lap does, though, and Tango picks it up and reads.

_I’M SCARED._

Tango reads those words over and over again. He’s scared, too. For Grum. For everything that’s being put on the line all of a sudden.

_THIS IS BAD, IS IT NOT?_

Tango nods, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“It is,” He says. “I- I barely know where to even begin, I... I knew we didn’t exactly have _long_ but- Shit, a _week?!_ This is insane! I can’t do this!”

_WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME IF YOU CAN’T DO IT?_

Tango squeezes his eyes shut, not even wanting to look at the ground Grum is sat on.

“You must have heard, but... the same thing that happened to Jrumbot. Worse, even, I’d argue. They’re gonna-”

He’s interrupted by another piece of paper.

_JRUMBOT? WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?_

Tango takes a deep breath.

“He... he got taken apart.”

_..._

_SO THAT IS WHY I CAN’T HEAR HIM ANYMORE._

Tango keeps silent, not knowing what to say. Is there even anything he _can_ say?

Grum whirrs more loudly behind him. From the corner of his eyes Tango can see smoke rising up from his inside wiring. Tango’s almost afraid someone else might notice, but it’s already gotten quite dark.

Tango clenches the next few papers, the red glow from his eyes illuminating his words, making them look so _real._

_I WISH I COULD CRY._

_I WISH I COULD SCREAM._

  
  
  
  
  
  


That’s it. That’s _it._ Tango is _done_ moping. He’s going to work non-stop to get Grum to safety, no matter what. He’s going to give him the right to express his feelings. He’s allowed to feel. He’s allowed to _be,_ dammit!

Tango jumps up, determined. He turns back to face Grum. He knows how he feels. Tango knows that he’s lucky that his friends put so much effort into him, to get him as close to a human as possible.

Sure, his tears may not be ‘real’ by any standards, and some of his senses are a bit off and the way his emotions work still baffles him, but it’s _something._

He’s not trapped. Not stuck to one place. Not stuck inside of his own body. He can _move._ He can _express himself._ Grum should be allowed to do that, too. He doesn’t have that luxury. But he’s _alive._

Screw Grian. Screw Mumbo. Screw Xisuma for allowing this to happen in the first place. 

“Grum,” Tango says, feeling ready to dive back into it all. “That ‘Film Studio’, as Mumbo called it. It’s not actually a film studio, is it?”

_NO. IT IS WHERE THEY BUILT YOU._

Huh. A workplace of some sorts, then. Tango nods.

“I figured as much,” He says. “They must keep some useful things in there. Any chance we can break in somehow?” 

From the silence Grum gives him he assumes ‘no’.

Still, Tango walks up to the door and peeks inside through the small windows in the iron door. It’s dark, but his eyes cast a dim red light upon its interior ever so slightly, illuminating it in an eerie glow.

They have to work fast. There’s not much time left, no time to waste! Grum switches to his other mode of messaging, his words appearing before Tango’s eyes.

_[WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What _are_ you going to do, Tango? What are you planning??


	23. Break in, freak out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a warning for potentially graphic descriptions of the robot variety! Take care and enjoy <3

Tango tries the door. It’s locked. Of _course_ it’s locked. 

“We’re gonna have to act fast if we want to do this,” Tango says to Grum. He’s been fooling around for too long, and now they really have to pick up the pace. 

The first order of business? Breaking into the ‘film studio’.

Tango steps back, looks around to see if anyone’s nearby, and then kicks at the door.

It makes a horrible, loud screeching noise when he makes contact, but it has a surprising amount of give. Looking around again to see if anyone noticed Tango steps back and kicks again, and again.

On the fourth time the door breaks open, flying off of its hinges and dropping to the ground.

Tango carefully steps inside, peeking around the corner. He can’t find a light switch, but he should be fine. He looks around. _Oh yeah._ This isn’t a film studio _at all._

There’s dozens of mannequin-like figures- _robots,_ lining the walls. All in varying degrees of completion.

They all resemble Tango, in one way or another. Some look more realistic than others. Some creep Tango out and send chills down his possibly existing spine. Like the ones with exposed skeletons, and the ones that are missing any sort of synthetic skin.

Tango shivers. Is that what he looks like underneath, too? Cub wasn’t kidding about that ‘uncanny feeling’.

As Tango makes his way to the end of the room he looks at the rows of similar-looking Tangbots. Like corpses. He wonders just how many times the hermits had tried, and failed, to bring him back. Tango shudders again. Is that normal? Is that functionality programmed in just for him to feel more human? It- it feels _weird._

He walks past the piles of loose limbs, dusty bits of redstone, and other items he hasn’t got a clue as to what they are supposed to resemble, toward the workbenches and chests in the back. Stacks of papers filled with notes, and rolls of blueprints are strewn about. They look useful, why didn’t the hermits store them someplace safer?

Tango doesn’t have time to check them all. He grabs everything he can and stuffs the items into his inventory. He quickly darts out of the ‘studio’ and pulls the iron door back up. It’s still busted, so Tango leans it against the frame. Not conspicuous at all.

“I’m gonna do this, Grum,” Tango says. “I’m going to pick up the pace and get you out of there in no time.”

Grum’s face lights up ever so slightly in the dark. The softly blinking lights of his face almost look like stars, Tango thinks. He clenches his fists around a stack of rockets.

_“We’re_ going to do this. I promise.”

_[THANK YOU, TANGO. FOR EVERYTHING.]_

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Tango says. “You just keep hanging on, alright? Stay strong.”

_[I WILL. TAKE CARE.]_

“I will,” Tango copies, and he shoots off into the sky, back to his base.

He immediately gets to work deploying the blueprints around what little area he has. Tango studies them, tries to replicate bits he recognizes with redstone, and even begins working with the elytra wings he got from his end raid with Scar and Iskall. Heating them above a furnace until they can be molded, Tango experiments with the material and its properties. 

He ignores the main chat, but mostly because Impulse is messaging him again and he doesn’t want to deal with him right now. Tango convinces himself that this time it’s with good reason. He has a robot to build! He’s on a time limit! He can’t afford to get distracted!

Tango this time around actually hangs up a clock, tracking time carefully as it passes. He doesn’t want to get lost in a haze of time again. He works non-stop, ignoring all outside noises and sounds completely, wholly focused on the blueprints and his work. 

It’s a miracle how the hermits were able to pull this off in just a little over a month, Tango realizes. If Tango didn’t have his own body and the notes he found to go off of, he wouldn’t be able to understand a single thing, he'll bet.

That’s not to say that he fully understands anything he’s working on. He works off of what he has, building what looks to resemble a nervous system, the delicate wiring that is supposed to connect different limbs, and even a compact computer for all kinds of information to be stored. But he’s not sure if he got it _right._ No way to test it, anyway.

Tango thinks back to Cub’s advice, and tries his hands at the legs. The skeletal structure to which he managed to grab a useful-looking blueprint. Constantly heating and re-shaping the metal is one hell of a time-consuming task, Tango finds out. His heart is beating faster and slower and faster and slower, trying to keep up with the constantly shifting temperatures in his base.

And he makes progress, but it’s slow. Everything is logical, in a way, but there’s _so much._ As he’s waiting for the elytra wings to heat up and mold their shape around some of the limbs he constructed, Tango sits back down. 

He chats with Grum, throughout the process. Keeping him up-to-date on his progress, and to ask if Grum has heard any of the hermits mention anything noteworthy. They’re nice breaks in between trying to bend and wrap his mind around all the circuits and the many systems that he needs to fit together in such a small space.

He even reassures Grum, telling him that it’s all going to be fine. That it’s all going to work out according to plan. The plan? Getting Grum that body before the week is up.

Tango briefly tackles what is supposed to become Grum’s eyes, but those prove to be too intricate for Tango’s brain after having spent nearly three days inside, staring at blueprints and breathing in redstone non-stop. He lays down on the ground, staring at the ceiling. It’s the end of the day already, the sun is just about to set. 

He needs a break. He knows he does, but it doesn’t feel right. Not when there’s so much on the line. When there’s still so much he has to figure out.

It’s not like Tango can just hide Grum somewhere in his base. Not without damaging him. Not when he knows that taking apart his redstone could damage him. Not when he barely knows what he’s doing.

Dammit, why can’t he keep focused? Why can’t this be like collecting sand or gravel? Something people constantly do to get their mind off of things? 

Why can’t he just go AFK? Why can’t he sleep? Why can’t he _rest?_

Tango sighs. He knows that he’ll likely never dream again. There aren’t even any phantoms outside, circling the air, waiting to take a bite out of him. And why would they? He’s not _human._

The _woosh_ of somebody flying with their elytra outside vaguely registers in his mind, but not until Tango hears a _thud_ and footsteps right behind him does he look up.

He shoots upright at the sight, looking at who flew in unannounced.

“Zed?!” Tango says. “What are you- Why are you _here?_ Why didn’t you _say_ anything?”

There’s stuff lying all around. Redstone. Blueprints. Bits and pieces that make it all too clear to anyone with a pair of working eyes what Tango’s trying to do. What he’s been working on non-stop. Stuff that’s supposed to be kept _secret_ and now Zed’s here and he’s _seen everything_ and he’s going to tell Grian and Mumbo and Xisuma and they’re going to-

“But I did message you!” Zedaph says. “I sent about a hundred messages and you still didn’t answer! I got worried! Everybody’s _worried,_ Tango-”

Tango grabs his communicator, scrolling down past everything he received, only looking at the last couple messages in the main chat. He skips to the last bit of the conversation, not wanting to bother with the hundreds of others he missed. He can’t focus on them either way.

_ <Xisuma> has anyone seen tango lately? _

_ <Xisuma> he isn’t answering me _

_ <impulseSV> nope _

_ <Xisuma> not even you? you’re neighbors, arent you? _

_ <iskall85> not since the endbusting we did last week _

_ <GoodTimeWithScar> Same _

_ <Zedaph> I think he’s at his base though. His lights are on _

_ <falsesymmetry> Working overtime yet again? _

_ <Xisuma> what’s he even doing in there? _

_ <Zedaph> Beats me _

_ <BdoubleO100> I don’t think he sleeps _

_ <GoodTimeWithScar> I dont thin k he even NEEDS sleep _

_ <Xisuma> oh. right _

_ <Xisuma> yeah that would explain it _

_ <Zedaph> I’m gonna go see if he wants to talk _

Zedaph looks worried. He reaches out to Tango carefully, hands up as if to tell him that he means no harm.

“Tango, please,” He says. “No offense, but you look terrible. You’ve been locked inside for days on end, you aren’t responding to anybody. I just- I just want to know if you’re doing alright.”

“I’m _fine,_ Zed,” Tango says curtly. He tosses his communicator aside, lost somewhere in the mess of redstone.

“You don’t look like it,” Zedaph tries to joke, but it falls flat.

Tango brushes him off. “Zed, please leave me alone. I haven’t got time for this. I need to keep going.”

“You look like you need a break-”

_“I haven’t got time for this.”_

Zedaph backs off, startled. Tango turns around and sits back down. That’s enough laying around doing nothing. Time to get back into the groove. Not even Zedaph is going to be able to distract him. He can’t let him.

Still, Zedaph approaches him from behind and puts a hand on his shoulder. Tango jerks at the contact and swings his elbow back, wincing when he hears- _feels_ it connect with Zedaph’s body with an audible _crunch._

Tango promptly jumps up, shocked. Zedaph is hunched over, clutching his face. His nose. He looks up, eyes watery. He looks... he looks _scared._ Of him. He’s scared of him.

_Zedaph’s scared of him._

_Shit._ Crap. Tango kicked an iron door open the other day, and now he _hit_ Zedaph in the _nose._ What was he thinking?! This is bad. This is-

“Zed, I’m...” Tango croaks. Why isn’t his voice working? “I’m-”

Zedaph holds his nose, curling into himself. Tango can hear him breathing heavily. He can see the blood dripping down from underneath his hands.

He hurt him. 

He hurt Zedaph.

“You’re scared of me...” Tango says.

“What?” Zedaph says. “No, of _course_ not, why would you-” He tries to get up, tries to reach out to Tango.

But Tango knows. He knows he is. That look in his eyes, it can’t be anything but _fear._ Even if he says he isn’t, Tango _knows._

He has to get out. It’s dangerous. _He’s_ dangerous. If he stays inside of here any longer he’s only going to end up hurting more and more. Tango pushes past Zedaph, running to the edge of his window.

“Tango, wait-!” Zedaph calls after him but Tango jumps out and shoots off with more rockets than necessary. He turns in midair and shoots over and across his base. More rockets. More speed. He has to get out, get _away._

He flies until he reaches a forest. Tango takes note of how dark it’s gotten, and finds a place to land. He doesn’t _need_ to rest, but- he feels restless all the same. He needs to _do_ something.

Tango touches down, landing smoothly despite everything, and begins to walk. He wanders, mind wandering as well, looking at all the mobs that are slowly starting to fill the forest as they spawn. They don’t appear to notice him at all. Or if they do, they must simply be ignoring him.

Do... would mobs still hurt him? Tango walks up to a stray zombie, but it shuffles right past, not even giving him another look.

“Wh- what’s wrong with you?!” Tango yells after it. “Come at me! I’m _right here!”_

The zombie groans, and for a second Tango thinks he’s caught it. But it limps further into the woods, not even seeing Tango as an easy picking.

Tango scoffs, and waves at two skeletons in the distance. He _knows_ they can see him. He _knows_ they should be readying their bows, aiming for him right about now.

But the mobs, they... they aren’t coming after him. Not at all. That- that's what made the ravager catching so easy, Tango realizes. That’s why he didn’t need his shield in the End. 

Tango reaches for his sword, glad that he remembered to keep it in his inventory. He walks up to a zombie, until he’s face to face with it. Red lights illuminate its rotten face, but it doesn’t do anything. It stares right through him.

Tango brings his sword up, slowly. He swings, and _strikes_ it, slashing its chest. And it’s like something changes- something clicks inside the zombie’s mind. Like it finally _sees_ him. It groans and switches its focus to Tango, reaching out with its arms. Its hands reach out, clawing at Tango’s clothes.

“That’s more like it,” Tango breathes. He grins when the zombie’s groans call other undead to turn around as well, turning their attention to him as they start making their way over.

Tango laughs as he runs away, dodging trees and other mobs as he’s chased around the forest. He takes out his bow and shoots at any mob he sees, causing spiders, creepers, and skeletons to turn to him and chase after him as well.

Tango runs and runs until he reaches a clearing in the forest. He turns back. An army of mobs follow him into the clearing, surrounding him.

_Perfect._

He shoots and stabs and fights the mob of mobs off, reveling in the fact that they finally see him as a threat. As _prey._

The zombies claw at his skin, pulling it apart, but Tango barely feels it. Creepers blow up and take other creatures with them, the heat of the explosions dulled to Tango’s senses. Spiders climb his body and bite and chew with their mandibles, tearing fabric and synthetic skin alike apart. Arrows stick deep into his back, digging into his electronics, but Tango can’t find it in himself to care.

He’s not even tired anymore. It’s the middle of the night and it feels like Tango could take on the entire world. He could keep swinging his sword for _hours_ more, could fight off zombies with his bare fists for _days._ He won’t die. They can’t kill him. Tango revels in the fact that the mobs finally see him as _human_ and yet-

It’s like something is suppressing his innate fear of death. Like it’s being dulled by something... something _in_ human. He knows he should be scared, but- he can barely feel it. There’s no pain. No physical pain, at least. It hurts, emotionally, but physically... nothing. 

It makes it all too easy to give into. To believe that nothing happened at all, that nothing went wrong after all.

Tango stops fighting. He isn’t bleeding. He caused Zedaph to bleed. Hell, even these undead creatures, these _mobs_ are bleeding. They’re a hundred times more alive than he is. They scream, groan, and hiss in pain. Tango, he- he feels _nothing._

Not when a zombie claws at his face. Not when another pulls his skin apart, not when one digs its rotten nails into his eye socket. Not when the hoard of mobs bursts into flames above him under the rising sun.

But... something in the back of Tango’s mind does register it. 

There’s heat. The sunlight casting down on him feels warm. He can _feel_ it.

It’s warm, it’s unfamiliar and yet _comforting._

For perhaps the first time in months, the world goes dark before Tango’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> :>


	24. Exposed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a warning for potentially graphic robot stuff.

_[TANGO.]_

_[TANGO WAKE UP.]_

_[PLEASE.]_

Tango groans, vaguely making out the sounds of whizzing and whirring as it fills his ears. His eyes flicker open and light floods his vision, much like the first time he woke up. The _only_ time he woke up.

He’s not in his base this time, however. He’s- he’s outside? There’s grass underneath him, he’s surrounded by trees, and the sun is high in the sky.

Tango shoots upright when he realizes what happened. _Crap._ That was... that was certainly an episode. He turns his head and spots several spiders still around. The undead mobs must have burned, Tango thinks. Any creepers that survived the ordeal would have wandered back into the woods again.

Tango winces as he all too vividly remembers what happened yesterday. It’s all so... so _clear._ He brings up his hands, inspecting the damage. There’s a lot of cuts in his skin, some deeper than others. He’s covered in bite marks and there are even places where his skin came loose, exposing his inner electronics. 

That certainly could have gone better.

Tango reaches for his communicator in his pocket, but finds that it isn’t there. He looks around, thinking that he might have lost it in the fight somehow, before remembering that he tossed it on the floor somewhere in his base yesterday. Was it yesterday? Oh god, how much time did he lose? How much time until Grum...?

 _Grum?_ Tango asks when he finds it in him to reach out. If he still _can_ reach out, that is. Tango isn’t sure how much of him got busted and how much of him still works. _Is everything okay?_ He asks Grum. _What day is it?_

_[I AM FINE. YOU WERE OUT FOR A COUPLE OF HOURS. I GOT WORRIED.]_

Worried. Even _Grum_ is worried about him, now. Seems like all Tango is capable of is worrying the people around him.

But still, seeing that, Tango can’t help but feel slightly more relieved. It was only a few hours. He didn’t lose too much time, there’s no need for alarm.

Tango gets up, grimacing as he hears his arms and legs creak slightly. He just hopes that he’s able to make it to his base in one piece. Tango takes a step and almost loses his balance, vaguely noticing something on the left side of his face. He reaches up with one hand, and- 

That’s skin. That’s part of the soft outer layer of synthetic _skin_ that’s dangling from his face. Tango reaches up further and is met with metal, and he recognizes the same material he used the elytra for. Exposed to the outside world. Ever so slightly warm to the touch.

Fine, maybe he’ll have to see Doc first. Tango moves slowly, reaching back for his elytra, and when he finds that it is still in semi-okay shape, he takes off. He fires rocket after rocket, shooting over the treetops, back to his mess of a base. Back to the place where... 

Tango lands with a thud, sending papers flying as he attempts a roll to soften the pain. When he looks up he sees that he landed in the middle of stacks of papers, sketches, blueprints, and redstone components. He looks around briefly to see if he can spot his communicator in the chaos, but he has no such luck. It’s lost in the mess that has become his storage room. At least... at least Zedaph isn’t here anymore. Tango doesn’t know if he’d be able to face him. Not like this, at least.

Tango lifts himself to his feet, only to trip over something, and lands harshly on a bunch of half-shaped elytras the shapes he’s managed to form the other night. When Tango moves away from them he sees how bent they now are. He does, surprisingly, spot the little machine he’s been looking for nearby. His communicator’s screen is broken, but it seems to work well enough. Tango sighs.

He gets up again, more careful this time, and removes himself from the pile of redstone. When he passes a couple of glass panes he stops, catching sight of his own reflection.

He looks... he looks _awful._

There’s indeed a large chunk of loose skin hanging off of the left side of his face, exposing the underlying robotics in a rather grim way. Even some of the elytra-like plating underneath looks torn apart, exposing more delicate wiring. Tango’s lucky it didn’t rain while he was out.

The ends of his hair are burnt, likely having caught some of the fire that the zombies and skeletons were dealing with. Tough the way the cuts in his skin just... aren’t healing, so _static,_ it- 

He looks properly... inhuman, now. The exposed, synthetic skeleton. His torn, melted, fake skin. The constant whirring from his insides and the occasional wire sticking out.

He looks like those unfinished Tango-robots in the film studio. 

How is he any different from those? How can the hermits call him ‘Tango’, when he so clearly is not? 

He grabs his communicator, and holds it up in front of his face. On its screen he can see his own name, _‘Tango’,_ displayed neatly above his head. He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to feel about that. How true that really is. 

It’s mocking him. Mocking who he is supposed to be. Mocking everything he’s done, everything he’s doing. The normal Tango wouldn’t lose his mind after working on redstone. The normal Tango wouldn’t break his best friend’s nose! The normal Tango wouldn’t avoid his best friend after he hurt his feelings... 

...Would he?

Tango throws his communicator to the floor again, watching the screen crack even further. He looks back up at his face in the reflective glass panes, feeling like tears should be about _burning_ behind his eyes now.

He peels some of the hanging skin away from the left side of his face, and pokes at what’s behind. At the metal that has cooled again now that he’s out of the sun. At the wires and tubes and inner bits and pieces.

Just as he thought, it doesn’t hurt. He can’t feel it at all. He supposes that that’s good, though. He doesn’t know if he’d _want_ to be able to feel himself poking around in there like that. 

But then again, he does suppose that this allows him to _really_ look into himself. Behind Tango’s face and name he really is just... metal and redstone. Tubes and wiring. Data and code. The hermits could easily create another Tango if they so wished, if they decide that he isn’t ‘Tango’ enough for them. Would he be left to die, like Grum? Would they let him rust? Or would strip him for parts? He- he doesn’t want to think about it, but the image keeps flashing before his eyes. The studio, filled with a dozen prototypes. Were _they_ ever activated? Were they allowed to walk around before he was made? Did-

The sound of rockets being fired outside of his base rips him from his thoughts. Someone’s coming. Already?! They- they can’t see him like this. They can’t know what happened, what he _allowed_ to happen- Tango looks around, trying to find anywhere to go, to _hide._

He’s going to scare them again. They’re not going to-

Before Tango even registers it, Impulse lands in front of him, blocking his exit. Tango stares. Impulse stares right back.

He’s frozen in place, mouth hanging open in a gasp. Tango watches for a second too long, realizing too late that he should have at least _tried_ to cover his face.

This break, this moment of _shock_ that Impulse seems to experience allows Tango to kick himself to his feet. He turns around, jumps over the redstone mess in the center of his base, and runs to the back exit.

He _really_ needs a door, he realizes as he jumps out of the window. 

“Tan- _wait!”_ He hears Impulse call after him, but Tango shoots rocket after rocket, twisting in mid-air and flies straight over the shopping district, all the way to the other side of the ocean. He can’t hear the firing of any rockets behind him, so that’s good, at least. 

God, the _one_ time Impulse comes over to confront him, and it’s the day he has a breakdown and half of his face fell off. Great. _Perfect._ Just _wonderful._

He has to get to Doc. Doc can fix him again. He did so before, too. He must know how hard it is to adjust to robotic limbs like these. He won’t blame him for being in a self-destructive mood, right? Doc knows. He knows everything! 

Tango fires another rocket, hoping that Doc is actually at his base. He can’t message him without his communicator, so all he can do is hope.

He lands in front of Doc’s half-house. He can hear activity from inside, so that means he isn’t AFK, at least. 

Tango knocks on the door. “Doc?” He calls.

He hears a door somewhere inside open, accompanied by some shuffling from the giant open wall to the side of the house. Shortly thereafter he hears Doc’s voice saying “Coming!”, followed by footsteps down a flight of stairs.

The footsteps walk up to the door, and Tango steps back. The door opens, revealing Doc, looking disheveled as ever, surprise clear on his face as he takes the sight of Tango in.

“Hi Doc,” Tango says.

“Tango... jeez, what _happened?”_ Doc ushers him inside, inspecting every side of his body as he makes his way up to where he remembers the small workspace being.

“I, uh... was fighting some mobs,” Tango says. It’s technically not a lie.

“I can see that,” Doc states, directing Tango through the house. “First door on the right. You caught me at just the right moment, I was just about to head into the mine.”

Tango opens the door and is greeted with the now familiar sight of body parts and mechanical bits on the walls and spread across the tables. It looks a lot less ominous than the ‘film studio’ next to Grum, at least.

“Can you sit?” Doc asks, and Tango huffs.

“Of course I can!” He sits down, purposefully ignoring the _crack_ of arrows breaking in half under his weight.

“Okay, forget the physical damage for a moment,” Doc says. “Are you okay? Emotionally?” Doc looks at him, his intentions hard to gauge with his sunglasses still on.

“Of course!” Tango says. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but, uh... That... debacle really cleared my mind. How long’s it gonna take to fix me up, Doc?”

Doc circles him, poking and prodding at bits of loose skin and inspecting the different cuts and scratches. He pulls out all of the arrows sticking out of him, and Tango is _really_ glad that he can’t feel any of it.

“Well, the obvious wounds I can do in a few hours,” Doc says. “You should be good to go by the end of the day. But I can’t do the smaller cuts, you’ll just simply have to be a bit extra careful with water, alright?”

“...Why’s that?” Tango asks. Doc fixed up his skin last time no problem, right?

“The skin wasn’t designed to fix small cuts like these,” Doc explains. “We’d have to remove everything and create a whole new layer of skin for that, which takes a lot of time and materials. I promise you though that I’ll look into something that could help with that, though. We’ll figure out a solution,” He says as he pats Tango’s head.

Tango nods, reaching up to swat at Doc’s arms. “You’re a lifesaver, man.”

Doc shakes his head. “Just looking out for a fellow hermit.”

“Seriously, thank you. I don’t want to freak out anyone else by looking like a mechanical zombie.” Tango laughs softly.

Doc rolls his eye, and moves to inspect Tango’s face up close. From this close Doc’s face is actually quite blurry, Tango realizes.

“Hmm, your eye isn’t looking too good,” Doc says, and Tango has to suppress a laugh at that.

“That’s fine, though! Happens to Iskall all the time.” Doc leans back, turns around, and starts digging through chests and barrels. 

“Can you still see through it?” He asks, going from chest to chest.

“Yeah, it’s just a bit vague. Blurry, I think?” Tango blinks a couple of times, but the effect doesn’t fade. If anything, now that he’s aware of it it seems like it’s only getting worse.

“Good. It’s just the lens, then, I think. Not a problem at all.”

Tango leans back in the chair, relieved. This could have gone a lot worse. Like, a _lot_ lot worse. He doesn’t want to think about what might have happened if it did.

“We’ll fix your eye while we wait for the skin to set, how’s that sound?” Doc turns around, holding tools Tango has never seen before.

“Hey, you’re the robotics master here,” Tango says.

“Right, right.” Doc walks up to the workbench, and puts down a toolbar full of items. Now that Tango gets a closer look, there are few items that he recognizes from all of the blueprints.

“Let’s get to work, then.”

Tango watches intently as Doc gets busy. Pulling spare parts and wires from chests and modifying them without as much as a second thought. He doesn’t even look at any blueprints or notes hung around the room for even a second, just working from memory. He cuts loose wires and connects new ones. He pokes around inside and inspects any damage before deeming everything okay enough to function.

Then Doc cuts off Tango’s damaged and burnt skin, and Tango is grateful for the fact that he’s slowly getting desensitized, watching these kinds of things happen to him again and again.

Doc measures some parts and mixes up the same ingredients he did that first time, and while they wait for that to set he turns his attention to Tango’s left eye.

“You might feel this,” He says, and before Tango can even open his mouth Doc twists something, and the vision from his left eye cuts off. Dark. His brain is whirring as it tries to adapt to only getting visual input from his right side, and it feels- it feels _weird,_ like he’s shifted a bit too far to the right.

Doc peers into his eye socket, murmuring to himself.

“Yeah, you’re looking fine, apart from the lens,” Doc says. “You’re sturdy, Tango! I’m really proud of everybody that worked on you!” He pats Tango on the shoulder before turning to grab something from the table.

Tango tries his best to look, and as Doc grabs a small object he puts, what Tango assumes is his eye, back down.

“Here we go,” Doc says, and with a bit of pressure, a shove, a twist and a _click-_ light and color starts flooding his vision from both eyes again.

Tango blinks a couple of times, feeling himself shift back into place. 

“How’s that?” Doc asks, and Tango looks up at him, around the room. It hits him just how wonky his vision had been before this. The world looks so much brighter, much more crisp right now.

“That’s much better, Doc. Thank you.”

“No problem, dude. No problem at all. Now, let’s get your face back in order eh? Make it presentable again.”

Tango nods and gets back to sitting as still as he can. Doc skillfully applies and reattaches the new skin, smoothing out the final touches. Tango briefly wonders why it’s so creepy for his robot face to shine through, when Doc walks around with his half-face of mechanical bits on display 24/7.

“...How do you _know_ all this stuff?” Tango asks once Doc gives him the okay to move again. “You’re not even looking at the blueprints.”

“Time,” Doc says. “Not a day has gone by that I’ve not been busy with robotics and other related things.”

Tango nods, thinking. Just these past few day’s he’s learnt more than he ever thought he would.

“I can teach you,” Doc offers, taking a seat across from him.

“What-” Tango looks up. “Really?”

“Yeah! I’d love to! It’d be useful for you too, I would imagine.”

“That’s- that’s great! I’d love to!”

“Hey, maybe we can even figure out a solution for the smaller cuts together,” Doc smiles, and Tango can’t help but smile back. Once Grum is saved, he can learn from Doc and use that knowledge to improve Grum’s body! This is perfect!

And as they’re waiting for the last of the substance to set, there’s a knock on the door.

Doc clearly must not have been expecting anyone, as he looks up, confused.

“Come in?” He says, and the door opens, revealing a nervous-looking Mumbo.

“Hi? Can I help you?” Doc asks, already getting up from his seat. Mumbo looks at him, decidedly standing in the doorframe. 

“Actually, I came to see Tango,” He says, and Tango looks up, frozen in place. Did he-?

“Me?” Tango asks.

“Yeah. Do... do you mind if we talked for a bit?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is fine :D!!


End file.
